Created by Zone
by John Prodman
Summary: "Worn" Boryslav Shevchenko, veteran VDV of the Soviet-Afghan war and experienced Stalker finds himself thrust into a foreign land, where its society centers around a giant chasm called The Abyss, similar to The Zone. Where death is impartial, filled with dangerous creatures and 'Delvers', those that willingly traverse its depths to explore its mysteries and find powerful 'Relics'.
1. The Abyss

"Did you find any relics in your area?"

Nat shook his head, "No. I really tried but...-"

"It's alright." Shiggy adjusted his backpack. "We'll just have to bring what we have back to the orphanage."

The 1st layer of the Abyss, right beneath the town of Orth and the only part of the Abyss considered 'safe'. Beginner Delvers or Red whistles often traversed this level, searching for lower grade artifacts amongst its calm biomes. Nat and Shiggy walked together, occasionally glancing at the clouds that hung above the lower levels.

"... You don't think we'll be strung up naked for this?" Nat asked.

Shiggy didn't respond, simply hanging his head down. Nat looked away, copying Shiggy's stature before his eyes winced, his face catching a glint.

"Hey..." Nat then knelt low, inspecting the shiny piece of metal. "What's this?"

Shiggy walked up next to his friend, "Keep onto that, it could be a-..." his sentence faltering as he looked up.

A giant 'machine' was embedded within the dirt ahead of them, the disturbed earth indicating that the wreck must have fallen from a long distance. Its design was a thing of mystery. The first part, the front, consisted of a metal and glass container in the shape of a large sideways L, with two inactive bulbs at the end of its 'hood'. The back was a giant square tent over metal, it's color a dirty green. Wheels seemed to be attached to the bottom but were horribly bent from the impact. Shiggy and Mat stared at it, at awe at the size of the relic.

"Woah..." Shiggy said with wide eyes, "It looks like some sort of metal... carriage?"

Nat cautiously walked up to it, inspecting the side of the front part before turning back to Shiggy. "Hey! There are smaller relics attached to it!" He then turned around and pulled at the 'ears' of the carriage, tearing off the rectangular thing. He grunted, the novice Delver surprised as he almost fell back. He then held it up, a smile on the boys face. "Shiggy, look! It's some sort of mirror!"

Shiggy paused before relenting, walking forward to look down. "It is, and it's so clear..."

Nat could barely hold his excitement. "I never would have imagined we'd find a relic this big, especially in the first layer!"

"Then let's check out the rest of it." Shiggy said, reaching what appeared to be a handle. "I'm sure we'll find more."

It opened, a bottle dropped out of the side of the container as the two kids flinched. It landed on the dirt, rolling slightly before Nat picked it up, squinting his eyes. "What is this?"

Shiggy took it out of Nat's hands, inspecting the strange letters and blue adornments on it. "Wow... These runes are completely unknown!" He then tilted it, watching the strange liquid slosh inside. "... Amazing..." He then turned his head to notice the interior of the container. It consisted of two seats made of an unknown material, as well as a bizarre wheel placed in front of the leftmost seat. Random relics were strewn inside, molded and dusty from age. Nat had begun to climb as Shiggy began to hesitate.

"Wait, maybe we're being a little too hasty."

"Huh?" Nat turned his head, on foot already atop the seat as another grabbed onto the wheel for purchase. "We can't afford to be cautious anymore, Shiggy, not before a bunch of other Delvers find this giant relic and-"

His hand touched the center of the strange wheel.

*HONK*

Nat literally jumped, as did Shiggy before the former tumbled off the chair and painfully landed on his behind. Nat let out a yelp of pain, form quivering, "I-I didn't mean to do that!"

"Calm down, nothing's happened..." Shiggy responded, looking back up at the metal thing. "It must've been one of the functions of this giant relic."

Sure enough, nothing had happened. The giant relic had remained the same, inactive and unmoving thanks to its broken form. Nat watched before standing back up, "O-Okay..." He then began to climb up again...

Only to stop upon hearing a distant growl.

Both Delvers turned their heads, noticing a shadow fly over the relic. Nat turned to look up just as Shiggy grabbed him by the shoulder, pushing Nat and himself into the container of the relic, closing the door behind them. "Wha-?"

"Splitjaw. Crimson Splitjaw. I-It's smaller so it must be a juvenile." Shiggy simply said, sweat already beginning to bead on the kid's face. "Hide."

They both did just that, finding space in front of the chairs and compartment of the relic. The small space was dusty, if not a little cramped, but they both managed to stay silent despite the conditions. The low growl of the Splitjaw could be heard outside, vibrating the metal and stirring the dust within.

It was moments like these that both kids could already see their deaths, food for the passing juvenile.

The growling then stopped.

A few tense moments passed, Nat and Shiggy holding hands over their mouths before the Splitjaw smashed into the relic. Both kids screamed, glass from above shattering over the seat as the metal beside them dented, indicating that the Splitjaw had rammed it from the front. Nat looked up, "What do we do!?"

Shiggy froze up, eyes darting around before blinking. He then turned, reaching into his giant backpack as the Splitjaw roared outside.

He produced a light stone bomb, Nat's eyes widening.

"Where did you-!"

"I made it!" Shiggy then climbed out of the small space, the glass bottle in his left and the bomb in his right. The Splitjaw was rounding to the front again, preparing another ram before he threw the homemade device, covering his eyes at the last second as it detonated on the hood of the relic. The Splitjaw screeched, its senses overloading as its giant head shook and quivered. Shiggy grabbed Nat by the backpack with his free hand, pulling him up. "This is our chance! Run!"

And they did, opening the door and rushing outside with their backpacks. The grass was bumpy, but thankfully the lack of artifacts they were carrying meant they could run faster. Shiggy pointed at a rocky outcropping ahead.

"We can take cover there-"

And then he tripped over a bump. His glasses fell off, disappearing in the grass before him as Nat came to his side. "Shiggy!"

The Crimson Splitjaw had recovered, rearing its body away from the truck and turning toward the two kids. It roared, slithering through the air. Shiggy attempted to get back up, using the bottle as leverage as he and Nat looked up from the grass.

A figure stood before them, the sun casting a shadow over the two orphans as the person raised something, aiming with both arms. A cacophony of bangs was heard, almost deafening as Nat and Shiggy covered their ears, just able to make out the pained screech emitted by the Splitjaw. It carried on for a second or two before finally stopping. A moment passed, both orphans slowly looking back to see the result. The Crimson Splitjaw was unmoving, body resting on the grass and head riddled with bleeding holes. They then looked back, both boys getting a good look at their savior.

The strange Delver wore a full hooded bodysuit of dull green, with layers to indicate armor stored underneath and various pouches to for carrying. The person also sported a brown belt and black boots, with a strange-looking machete and device holstered right and left respectively around the belt. A weapon, possibly the source of the noise, was held within its hands, consisting of metal and orange wood, with the stock at one end and barrel on the other to indicate that it was some sort of musket. Delvers often stayed away from black powder weapons, as they were loud and could only fire one shot before having to suffer a lengthy reload, not enough to stop a rampaging creature of the Abyss. Yet this person had fired an uncountable amount from a single barrel.

How was such a thing even possible, was it some sort of relic? It did look the part, as a strange J shaped container connected to the bottom of said weapon.

Finally, the most outstanding feature of all was the mask the person wore beneath their hood. It was pure black, with a long tube running from the back like a trunk. Two soulless lenses stared at the kids, both unable to see the eyes of its user. Nat attempted to say something, only for the words to die in his mouth. The presence this person emitted was almost terrifying, inhuman even as the person raised a finger in front of the mask.

"Shhh..." It muffled before placing the weapon on its back and taking out something else, a long tube with a pump beneath it. The person racked a hand beneath it, a satisfying *Schklikt* sounding before walking past them. Nat and Shiggy looked at each other before looking at the Delvers bulky backpack, noticing the person walking up to the body of the Splitjaw and pausing in front of it.

And then the juvenile sprung to life, revealing that it had been playing dead despite the numerous wounds it had sustained. Its maw opened, revealing two sets of giant fangs as it lunged straight toward the person.

Shiggy's eyes widened as Nat called out.

"LOOK OUT!"

The strange Delver simply raised the tube and fired.

A portion of the Splitjaw's maw was blasted off, fang along with it, it somehow kept going, trying to bite the Delver with the remains of its mouth. The Delver dove to the side, avoiding the attack and pumping the weapon again before aiming at the side of its already damaged head. The shot blew off a giant chunk, tossing its flesh and brain matter through the air and onto the grass.

The Crimson Splitjaw was finally dead, slumping down atop the grass as its tongue lolled out of its closed serpentine mouth. The Delver held their weapon still, waiting for a moment before finally holstering the weapon. The person took out a small grey device and held it upright before clicking, a small bright flash harmlessly striking the body before the Delver placed the device back into one of their pouches.

Nat and Shiggy slowly walked up to the person, the latter having retrieved his glasses as they stared down at the dead Splitjaw. The person turned to them, resting the weapon on a shoulder before squatting down, head level with both kids.

Shiggy then realized that the figure was holding out a hand, fingerless gloves expecting something.

"Дайте його тут." A masculine and muffled voice spoke behind the mask.

He somehow knew what the now revealed man wanted despite the completely unknown language he spoke, handing over the bottle full of clear liquid as the man took it.

"Спасибі." The man said again, uncorking the top.

He then took off his mask, revealing a strong but tired face, shaved hair and a thin grey goatee around his mouth. His eyes shared a unique blue, dull like the rest of his gear, almost as if they had lost light to them long ago. He then raised the relic to his mouth, drinking the liquid within it before looking down at the two kids.

Despite his worn appearance, he smiled at the two orphans and spoke, accented words that they could finally understand.

"So, Children. Mind telling me where I am?"

* * *

**So what exactly is this story? For starters, it's a S.T.A.L.K.E.R and Made in Abyss crossover, something which I'm surprised has not been done seeing the similar themes in both series. We'll get a better idea of how exactly this Veteran Stalker ended up in the Abyss in the next chapter... and what exactly makes him a game-changer for the rules of the Abyss. I'll give you a hint, it involves a very particular artifact he has in his possession. I don't know how far this story will go in all honesty, but I'm hoping it'll get just as much love as my other story as I love both MiA and Stalker.**

**If you read the story and liked it (or disliked it), leave a review or a PM, I would really appreciate it.**

**P.S. This story takes place quite a bit BEFORE the events of Made in Abyss Season 1 take place, about 4 months or more even.**** There will be a few time skips here and there, so it'll catch up eventually. I've also read the manga but don't worry, there won't be spoilers for that until much later on (if it helps, I'll also put a warning on later chapters that are delving into manga territory).**

Translations:

Дайте його тут - Dayte yoho tut - Give it here

Спасибі - Spasybi - Thanks


	2. The Compass

Boryslav Shevchenko carefully watched the faces of the two kids in front of him, their blank stares telling him all he needed to know.

"_... Shit._" His inner voice spoke, "_This is a damn fine mess I've gotten myself into._"

It all started with rumors of a valuable stash in the corner of Wild Territory, contained within the back of a Zil-131. While most Stalkers would have put it off, deeming it too dangerous and not worth the effort, Boryslav had stuck to his guns and set off on his own to find it.

He found it alright. As it turns out, the reason why most never came back after looking for the stash was because a Space anomaly had enveloped the truck. Perhaps it was the all mighty himself at this point telling him to give up, but Boryslav wasn't one to quit so easily. He had delt with one long ago, he would deal with this one. He had a Svarog Detector, one of the best and newest types a Stalker could get ahold of. State of the art artifact AND anomaly detection at his fingertips, as well as the ability to send out a frequency to disable the Space anomaly in question. So it came as no wonder he was itching to try it out.

Instead, the Space anomaly imploded in his face, blinding him. When he blinked, he had found himself... here.

Wherever here was.

And now, after finding the truck and killing that giant flying red snake thing, he could use all the info he could get.

The boy with glasses looked up at him, staring at him like how an Ecologist would stare at an artifact. The other boy, the brown-haired one, seemed to finally take the initiative, speaking out.

"The first layer of The Abyss."

Boryslav blinked, none of what the boy had said even familiar to him. First layer? Abyss? He looked around, Vodka bottle still in hand.

Well, if one thing was for sure, this 'Abyss' was a hell of a lot prettier then where he came from. He had witnessed long rolling fields of healthy grass, giant mushrooms, giant trees... and then there were the clouds, not above but below, floating above the gigantic chasm that stretched on for miles.

He supposed the name 'Abyss' definitely made sense for this place.

Taking another sip from the bottle, he lowered it, staring at the red creature's body.

"What about that mutant I just killed? Does it have a name?"

"Mutant?" The brown-haired boy asked, speaking as if the term was unfamiliar to him. The other boy with glasses, however, seemed to quickly discern what Boryslav meant.

"A Crimson Splitjaw. Its habitat is the third layer, but this one's a juvenile... so it must've come up looking for food."

"Juvenile eh?" Boryslav said, scratching his beard. "And that big? Then I better get to work. I do not want to see an adult, or even worse, an angry mother." He then walked past the two kids, unclipping a Spetsnaz survival machete. There was always some part of a mutant that was valuable, be it a tail, a foot, or even a tentacle. It was probably the same story here. "Anything of value on these Splitjaws?"

The brown-haired boy stared at the survival weapon with awe as the other boy nodded, "They sometimes swallow minerals and relics... so if you cut open their stomachs-"

"Ah, I see. Like a crocodile." Boryslav said, preparing his machete as the brown-haired boy asked a question.

"What's a crocodile?"

Boryslav raised an eyebrow, before shrugging.

God, he couldn't remember when was the last time he had interacted with children.

He simply went to work, driving the sharp end of the survival machete into the creature's stomach. Its skin was tough, indicating the reason why it had survived so many shots from his AK-74, and taken two from his Gravi augmented Mossberg. It had also thought like a creature of The Zone, playing dead to get a jump on its attacker. This thing was evolved to kill humans, humans with weapons that is.

"Are you a Delver?" The brown-haired boy asked again.

"Delver?" He asked, just as the stomach sack gave way, blood and remnants of previous victims pouring out. He had even seen a human skull, partially digested and now laying on the grass. Boryslav expected to see the kids flinch, yet they watched with unwavering stares, almost as if they were used to such macabre displays.

And then there were the other things of various shapes and sizes. He leaned down to pick one of them up, a strange stone object the size of a tennis ball.

"What is this?" Boryslav asked, holding it for the two kids to see.

"That's a relic." The boy with glasses answered diligently.

The gravity of the situation finally caught up to him.

Where was he? A place he had never heard of before. Who were these two kids? Two kids that had never heard of a crocodile apparently. And what was a Delver?

So many questions, it hurt his slightly hungover head just thinking about them. He silently lowered the relic in his hand, looking at the two boys. "Then what about you two? This place is clearly dangerous. Where are your parents?"

"We're collecting relics to sell." The boy with glasses said as a matter of fact. "And we don't have parents, we're orphans."

"... Oh." Boryslav simply said, quickly realizing the awkward subject he had just walked himself into. He coughed, changing it quickly. "Then, ah... what are your names?"

"I'm Nat." The brown-haired boy now identified as Nat answered.

The other one straightened his glasses, "Shiggy."

"Well then, Nat, Shiggy." He then looked back at the bloody relics on the grass before looking back at the boys, handing the ball-shaped relic to Shiggy "... I guess you can take this 'relic', and the rest as well. I came here for something else..."

"Woah, really?" Nat said, a hint of excitement in his voice as he passed Boryslav. "Thanks!"

"Thank you." Shiggy added, joining his friend.

Boryslav turned away from the two scavenging orphans, Vodka still in hand as he walked to the back of the truck. He unlatched the tailgate, looking inside. There were a few open crates inside, already looted... all except one. The one thing that could fetch a pretty price.

"What are you looking for?"

He almost jumped, swearing-in Ukrainian as he turned to see that the two orphans beside him. Hands red from the bloody relics they had packed. "блядь! Do not sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry." Shiggy simply said before perking up again, "So this is the back of the giant relic..."

"Giant relic? You mean the truck?"

"Truck?"

"Ah..." Boryslav paused before climbing up into the back, shoving a few crates out of the way as he spoke. "You have... wagons pulled by animals, correct?"

"Yeah." Nat answered, "Furpongs."

"Fur-?" The Stalker shook his head, "Well, think of a wagon but not pulled by an animal. It instead uses a machine to move it forward."

"Oh, so it's like a... steam train, or maybe boat but it goes on land?" Shiggy asked.

"Dah! Yes! It is like a train but can go on any terrain. No need for tracks." Boryslav replied as he reached the unopen stash, opening it to look inside. He smiled, reaching in to pull out a small lead-lined box. The fact that there were trains and boats in this land was good news, perhaps the people were advanced enough to possibly have electricity as well.

"So then... is it human-made?" Nat asked.

"_They catch on quickly._" Boryslav thought, jumping out of the back of the truck. "Dah. It is. And it contains something of value from The Zone."

Shiggy picked up on the last word. "The Zone? What's The Zone?"

He opened the box, a bright blue glow emanating from within it. Boryslav reached in, the two kids watching with awe as he held a Soul artifact in front of them. "Heh..." He chuckled, "In case you both have not noticed, I am not from around here..." He looked up. "Now, where is the nearest town?"

"O-..." Nat drew his eyes away from the artifact. "Orth..."

"How far?"

Shiggy pointed up, "It's above the first layer and it's about a half-an-hour walk from here."

"Good." Boryslav simply said, holding the artifact away from Nat's peeking face. "Do not stand too close. It is radioactive."

* * *

"So you're not from Orth?"

"Niet." Boryslav simply responded, the two orphans trailing closely behind him as he casually held his AK. Their backpacks were overloaded with relics from The Abyss, he was genuinely surprised that both kids were able to carry that much on their backs.

"Then... where are you from?" Nat asked.

"Ukraine."

Shiggy straightened his glasses, "There's no nation called Ukraine."

"Well-" Boryslav shrugged, "About an hour ago, I knew of no place called The Abyss or Orth, so let us just agree to disagree, dah?"

They walked on in silence for a few moments before Nat spoke up again. "What did you mean when you said that relic was radioactive."

"It was not a relic, it is a-" Boryslav shook his head, admittedly losing a bit of patience. "Look, I am tired of answering all of your questions. Besides, do you two not think you are a little too trusting of a stranger you just met?"

"But you saved the both of us from the Crimson Splitjaw." Shiggy said.

"Dah, and right after that, I could have murdered both of you and looted your corpses."

Silence. A few seconds passed before Nat spoke up, "But you didn't."

"... Dah, I did not..." Boryslav said. "But it does not mean I have not done it to others." Moments passed, both parties silent before Boryslav sighed. "Right, radioactivity... How must I explain this?" He turned his head slightly, thinking of a way to put it to the two children. "Think of ah, a dangerous rock or an object that can sometimes emit a... spicy air."

His explanation would have made a nuclear physicist cry.

"You cannot see this air." Boryslav continued, "And too much of this air can easily kill you if you are not careful, or leave you wishing to be killed."

"So its like poison?" Shiggy asked.

"A bit. But a type of poison that can gradually seep into the strongest of protection. That is why you need to use lead or concrete when dealing with radiation, or special types of suits."

Shiggy nodded in understanding as Nat spoke up. "So... I guess this means you're not a Delver?"

"Niet." Boryslav responded, "Where I am from, I am known as a Stalker."

"A Stalker? So you follow people without them knowing?" Nat asked, eyes scrunching in slight disgust.

"Not that type of stalker!" Boryslav answered with slight irritation before returning to a more prideful tone. "I am a scavenger, trespasser, adventurer, loner, killer, explorer, and robber, all rolled into one."

"Oh, so the word Stalker for you is more of an acronym." Shiggy surmised.

"... Dah..."

Admittedly, it was only now that Boryslav realized that aforementioned fact as Nat looked up. "Wait... then that means you're like an illegal Delver."

"I keep hearing that word, 'Delver', but I do not know what it means." Boryslav said, coming to a stop as he turned around.

Shiggy walked up to the Stalker. "A Delver is a person registered by the nation of Orth to explore the depths of The Abyss and contribute to study, collecting Relics for research or gain."

"_Just like a Stalker would. __Less of the government mandating or control._" Boryslav silently thought, continuing his walk. "Well, now that you put it like that, I guess I would be an illegal Delver." He then looked down, "That reminds me, why do you both wear those red whistles like boy scouts? Some sort of fashion or...-?"

"Its to determine our Delver rank." Shiggy held it up for the man to see. "Me and Nat recently got our red whistles after delving the first layer."

"So you both are rookies?"

Nat nodded as Shiggy continued, "It's a ranking system. Depending on how experienced and how far down The Abyss you've gone. The order goes by blue whistles, moon whistles, black whistles... and finally the white whistles."

_"_And what is so special about these white whistles?" Boryslav asked.

"Only the greatest Delvers of all time!" Nat answered, "They're legends! And the things they've done or discovered have changed the world! They're super rare too, with only 5 in existence, and two of them already went on their last dive."

"Last dive? What is that supposed to mea-?"

The Svarog went off, beeping at a crazed pace as the party paused. "What's that?" Nat asked, Boryslav reaching into one of his pouches to produce the detector. He then froze up, eyes widening.

"Заебись!" Boryslav yelled, looking down at the device as Shiggy came up to him.

"What's wrong?"

"What is wrong, what is wrong?!" Boryslav turned his head, "There is a huge fucking anomaly just up ahead! So big, the damn screen cannot even record it!"

Shiggy blinked, "I...-" He then looked down the road, "Well, we're only just about now beginning to gain altitude, so maybe the curse is already manifesting ten meters ahead."

"The curse? What the hell is that?"

The young boy paused before taking off his backpack, quickly ruffling through it and producing a book. He then opened it, finding a page and showing it to Boryslav. "The curse of The Abyss. The strain of ascending. One of the greatest challenges to any Delver." He pointed to the first picture, the drawn man wiping sweat from his brows as he held onto a climbing rope. "Basically, trying to return from any layer comes with its own set of risks, varying in danger depending on which layer it is. Returning from the first layer only makes you experience mild dizziness. The second, headaches, nausea, and numbness of the extremities." The man was then puking. "The fourth, intense pain throughout the whole body and bleeding from every orifice." The man bled out of his eyes and ears. "The sixth and beyond... loss of your humanity or death." The man was now shattered, now one with the stones of the abyss.

Boryslav stared for a moment, placing a hand beneath his chin in thought. He then looked up, turning to face the road as Nat spoke. "That's why it's hard for Delvers to return home safely. There's just no way to avoid it..."

"Well..." Boryslav paused, slowly reaching into a special pouch that rested in front of his belt. "There's no way in hell I am going to walk right into an anomaly I don't fully understand, willingly or unwillingly. The last time I did I...-"

He recalled for a split second, recalling days without food, and scarce amounts of water, walking in one direction for days only to find yourself back at the same place as before. Getting stuck in a Space anomaly happened to him once, considered one of the most dangerous of anomalies in The Zone. His escape was thanks to one thing and one thing only.

Finding the artifact within to destroy the anomaly that imprisoned him.

Nat shrugged, "Unless you wanna get to Orth, you're kinda out of options. The curse is just one of the rules of The Abyss."

Boryslav grabbed ahold of the artifact, taking it out. It was a pitch-black orb, so dark that it seemed as if it was sucking the light from around it. The two kids looked at it with a hint of awe and confusion.

"It is a good thing rules are meant to be broken, dah?"

And then he walked forward, holding it out as it began to levitate, tiny pylons of crystals beginning to rise out of the dark orb. A white light then shot out from these crystals, noticeable despite being day time and striking what appeared to be an invisible barrier. Like a projector, the light grew bigger and bigger before finally stopping, a bright semi-circle over the upward road. Boryslav turning his head. "Alright, it should be safe to go. Follow me."

Shiggy and Nat did, the trio walking into the projected light before reaching the other side.

Both orphans froze up. They were sure of it.

They had gone up ten meters and not suffered the curse of the first layer.

Which meant...

Boryslav grabbed the artifact from the air, casually putting it back into his pouch as the 'opening' of light closed behind them. He then turned, noticing a visibly shaken Shiggy and a shocked Nat simply stare at him.

"A-Aubade... N-No, b-beyond a-aubade..." Shiggy murmured to himself.

The Stalker turned his head to Nat, "What is wrong with him?"

Nat didn't respond, simply staring at him with wide eyes as Shiggy spoke up, quickly opening his notebook.

"Y-Your name, I-I need- we didn't ask your name b-before."

"Boryslav Shevchenko."

He then smiled.

"But you can call me Worn. You can thank the assholes back at The Zone for making the name stick."

* * *

Translations:

блядь - Blyad - Whore (like how one would say Fuck!)

Заебись - Zaebis' - Holy shit


	3. The Old Delver

They were close, Boryslav could tell.

No longer was it a winding dirt road but uneven stone steps, increasing the likelihood of civilization. Boryslav looked up, the two young orphans whispering to each other in front of him.

He frowned.

It had been a few minutes since he used the Compass to traverse the 'curse' anomaly, and ever since then, the two kids had outright ceased any form of conversation with him. It was almost as if they were... afraid.

They noticed his attention, ceasing their whispers as Boryslav spoke up.

"Something wrong?"

Shiggy stopped. "Er, no." And then began walking forward.

However, Nat clearly begged to differ, biting his lip as his fingers twitched. Something was making the boy nervous, his body language speaking high levels of anxiety before Shiggy stopped in his tracks again.

"Oh, um... actually yeah, there is." Shiggy turned his head, pointing forward. "There's a sentinel up ahead who watches the border of Orth."

"A guard?" Boryslav asked, "Well then what is the problem?"

"She's going to see that you don't have a whistle, and immediately assume that you're an illegal Delver."

"Ah,-" Boryslav nodded in understanding, "I see." He then looked around, peering at the grass mounds on the side of the road. "Then you two should keep walking forward, I will sneak past." He then turned to Shiggy, "Do you have a map I can follow?"

"Here." Shiggy said, ripping a piece of paper from his notebook and scribbling on it. He then showed it to Boryslav, pointing at two separate drawings. "This is us, and the stone arc she'll be stationed on is over here."

Boryslav nodded, taking the paper before pausing, raising an eye.

"What's wrong?" Shiggy asked.

"I do not understand this language you wrote..."

"It's Orth rune." Shiggy explained, "Anyhow, it's not important. They're just designations I wrote."

Boryslav slowly nodded as Nat spoke up. "W-Wait, you're really going to try and sneak past when it's broad daylight?"

The Stalker pocketed the map, "Do not worry, I will manage." He began to climb atop the grass mound, "I will meet you two on the other side,-" He then put his strange mask on, turning his head one last time. "Бувай."

Boryslav disappeared over the ridge, the two orphans watching him leave. They waited for a few moments, sure that he was out of hearing range before speaking to each other, continuing their climb atop the steps. "Shiggy, I-I don't get it. I thought the plan was-"

Shiggy shook his head, "I couldn't go along with it. There's just... so much we still don't know to act with haste."

"Yeah but, if people figure out about his relic-"

"Artifact." Shiggy corrected.

"Same thing!" Nat said in exasperation, "If people figure out that he has an artifact that can _negate _the curse of The Abyss, then nations are going to figure out too! Remember what Director taught us? Artifacts considered special grade-"

"-are too powerful for an individual to keep for personal use." Shiggy finished, "But that only applies to relics found in The Abyss."

"So you believe him?" Nat asked.

Shiggy nodded, "Yes, I do. He didn't even know what rune was, Nat. I really think what Worn has said is true, he isn't from around here, or anywhere..." Shiggy turned his head, "And did you forget? If it weren't for Worn, you and I would be snake droppings by now. The least we can do is make sure he gets to Orth unmolested."

"I-..." Nat then paused, noticing that the stone arc had come into view. Already the town sentinel could be seen, staring forward from the balcony with unblinking eyes, an explosive 'Powder Spear' by her side. Rumors circulated that she used a relic to keep her eyes open without blinking, another more extreme rumor, told that her eyelids had been eaten off by a creature of the Abyss.

Yet one thing remained constant. A lot of kids, especially orphans from the Belchero orphanage, feared the woman.

Shiggy and Nat kept silent, traversing a few meters forward as they approached the arc. It was hard to tell whether or not she was looking forward or at them.

And then she spoke, the two orphans freezing up.

"You two."

Shiggy looked up, "Y-Yes?"

She leaned forward, head peering down from the stone balcony. "I noticed the blonde-haired girl with glasses was looking for you two. She passed a few minutes ago..." And then the sentinel leaned back, resuming her watch.

The two orphans blinked.

"That must be Riko." Nat whispered before looking up, "And uh, there's...-"

A tense moment passed, Shiggy staring at Nat wide-eyed behind his glasses as the sentinel leaned forward again. Nat then looked back down at Shiggy's face, pausing, and then looking back up.

"T-Thank you, f-for telling us about our f-friend."

The sentinel paused before nodding, leaning back to disappear behind the balcony.

And they went on their way.

A few moments passed, silence between the two orphans as the arc disappeared behind them. Shiggy then stopped, turning his head. "Nat... thank you, for not exposing Worn."

Nat let out a sigh, "Yeah... anyway, even though that lady isn't too bad, she's still scary to talk to. I could barely thank her, much less give away Worn's position."

"Of course. I would have been long gone by then." a muffled accent spoke out.

Shiggy and Nat flinched, peering to the side of the steps to see Boryslav squatting on the side of the road, weapon casually resting on his shoulder. His mask was still on, two lenses staring at them. They hadn't even seen him, much less notice his presence.

The Stalker stood up, stretching his back as Nat spoke up. "Er, how long were you there for...?"

"Long enough to hear your conversation." He then held his weapon in front, "So, you two were thinking of betraying me?"

Shiggy opened his mouth to protest, only for no words to come out. Sweat began to bead on his head, much like when they were hiding from the Splitjaw within the truck... that everpresent feeling of dread and death. Shiggy's eyes managed to peer to the side to see Nat in a similar situation, eyes wide as he stared forward. And then the orphan turned back to look up.

He wished he didn't.

No longer did Shiggy see Boryslav, as the dark lenses on his strange mask now gave the impression _nothing _was there anymore... Just a black shade contained within the confines of a green armored suit.

It was as if the man in front of them had been replaced with some other entity entirely, created by something unspeakably cruel and unforgiving.

"_He's going to murder us, and then loot our corpses._" was all Shiggy could think.

And then Boryslav threw his head back and laughed, taking off his mask and looking back down to show that his face had turned into a healthy red, contrasting with his grey goatee. "Ha, ha! I kid, I kid!" He then squatted down again to face level, "You both are good children. For you two to lie for my sake..." He then shook his head, "I will not pretend what you did was right. I do not know your customs and values... if lying here is taught as a sin." Boyslav stood back up, "But regardless, I do wish to thank the two of you for guiding me. You two would make good guides if you were in The Zone."

"... S-So you're not going to kill us?" Nat asked, slowly recovering.

"Of course not." Boryslav then paused, longer then he should have. "I do not kill children."

Shiggy let out a breath of relief, Boryslav holstering his weapon.

"I think I see an end to these stairs. We must be very close to your town." The Stalker then turned his head, "Maybe on the way there, I can tell you a bit more about The Zone, where I came from, Dah?"

Nat gave a small shrug as Shiggy's eyes lit up, producing his notebook.

* * *

Boryslav didn't expect much from Orth.

He had been to plenty of quaint little towns in his homeland... and in Afghanistan. So he had expected to see a few houses, maybe a town hall, but he had forgotten just how different this new land was.

Thousands of chimney stacks from thousands of houses could be seen emitting grey lines over the town as sun began to set. They were built haphazardly over rocky ridges, some even overlapping each other. Iron waterwheels churned at the edges, funneling rivers from the mountains and sending it pouring downward into The Abyss. A giant bridge extending toward the middle of the chasm held hundreds of gondolas and elevators, all operating as figures could be seen standing on it. And it went on for miles and miles, spanning around the giant chasm that was The Abyss.

"_It is like this entire society is built around this damn hole..._" Boryslav thought as Nat came up next to him.

"So uh, what are Emissions like?" The boy asked.

Boryslav kept walking forward, eyes now scanning the peaceful and civilized scenery around them. "Dangerous."

He had been telling the two orphans a bit about The Zone, giving basic explanations on things like anomalies and mutants. He had remembered their faces, from lighting up with intrigue before turning to shock. The Zone, although similar to The Abyss, came with its own dangers. At least in The Abyss, one didn't need to worry about being sucked up into a Whirligig and ripped apart, or thinking that said Whirligig was the entrance to a safe compound because a Controller (a former human somehow turned mutant) was toying with your mind.

But admittedly, Boryslav knew that he hadn't experienced The Abyss long enough to paint a clear comparison.

"I do not know why it happens, an Ecologist egghead can probably tell you more. But from what I know, Emissions, or as Stalkers like me call it, a Blowout, happens when energy builds up in the center of The Zone and releases, sending out massive psy waves across the land." Boryslav shook his head, "Only way to avoid it is getting to a suitable shelter. If not, well..." Boryslav shrugged, "If you are lucky, it will kill you, fry your brains and leave it leaking out of your ears. If you are unlucky... you get back up..."

Shiggy and Nat paused before the latter spoke up, "Wait, are you saying they turn into literal zombies-?!"

"Nat, Shiggy!" A girls voice called out.

The trio turned to see a girl down the road, blonde hair and ponytails covered by a Delver hat as her green eyes shined behind a pair of glasses. A giant bag full of relics could be seen on her back, but otherwise did not impede her speed as she rushed forward.

"It's Riko." Shiggy uttered before the two boys were pulled into a tight hug. Boryslav watched from behind, using the moment to get a better look at his surroundings. Actual town goers could be seen walking the streets now, a few wagons full of produce pulled by giant furry beasts, not too dissimilar to the look of oversized guinea pigs.

"_Those must be Furpongs._" Boryslav thought as the girl named Riko pulled away from her two friends.

"I was so worried when you two didn't show up at our usual meeting place! What happened?!"

"We got attacked by a Crimson Splitjaw." Nat spoke, half stating and half bosting.

"Eh?!" Riko exclaimed in shock.

"Juvenile Crimson Splitjaw." Shiggy corrected, much to Nat's disappointment. "And the only reason we survived was because of Worn over here."

"Worn?" Riko asked before turning her head to Boryslav, she seemed to shrink beneath the visage of the Stalker, clenching her hands out of both determination and fear. "Y-You're Worn?"

"Dah, that is-" He was cut off.

"Aie!" Riko then laughed, tears literally coming from her eyes as she seemingly forgot her fear. "His accent sounds so funny!"

Boryslav raised an eye, genuinely surprised at how expressive the small girl in front of him was. Shiggy and Nat stared at her as well, teeth gritted with embarrassment.

Riko recovered, "But, still-" She then bowed her head, hat almost falling off her head. "Thank you for saving Nat and Shiggy!" She looked back up, "Are you a Delver? Where's your whistle?" She then gasped, "Unless, you're an ille-!"

Nat immediately put a hand to her mouth, Riko murmuring in surprise. "Sorry, one moment." Shiggy simply said, the two of them dragging her to the side as Boryslav watched.

"_These children are going to be the death of me..._" Boryslav thought.

* * *

"-And he has used this artifact to help us ascend the first layer... _without _any of us receiving the curse." Nat whispered.

"Whaaaat?!" Riko exclaimed, "Really!?"

"Shhhhh,-" Shiggy shushed, "But yeah, that's what happened. Don't tell anybody about it."

"Wow..." She then turned her head, Boryslav walking closely behind the trio. "You really are like a white whistle..."

He shrugged, "It is common to utilize artifacts from where I am from."

"Then where are you from, and how did you get here?" Riko asked.

"The Zone." Boryslav explained. "A place similar to your Abyss but different in other ways. You have your bottom and we have our center..." He then shook his head, "As for how, it was a Space anomaly that sent me here. Not sure how, but it did."

"A space anomaly?" Riko asked, Shiggy perking up.

"Anomalies are basically unnatural hazards where Worn comes from." The boy explained, "There are all sorts of anomalies apparently, and they're all dangerous to walk into."

Boryslav nodded, "Very good, very good. But a space anomaly is different from the rest, and the most dangerous. It alters the very fabric of reality and time, creating a loop in space and trapping any unfortunate bastard who walks into it." Boryslav then stared forward, a distant look in his eyes. "You will find yourself walking anywhere, only to find yourself in the exact same spot you left... your supplies running low." Boryslav shook his head, "Anyways, I tried to destabilize one using my detector to reach a stash, but it instead blew up in my face... God damn Ecologists and their prototype tech..."

Nat and Shiggy tilted there heads at that while Riko looked up, a dreamy gaze on her face. "Woah, if only my mother were here. I'm sure she and you would have gotten along really well." She then paused, "At least I think you would have. I never knew much about her."

"Who was your mother, if you do not mind me asking?" Boryslav asked.

"Oh, I-I'm supposed to keep it a secret!" Riko realized before calming back down, "But... she was a white whistle. Lyza the annihilator." Riko's eyes began to shine with pride, "And she was called that because she was able to exterminate any enemy she encountered! Be it a creature of The Abyss or Delvers from rival nations."

"Ah, I see. It sounds like she would have been at home where I am from... A shame she passed away."

"Er, no she's just down in The Abyss... somewhere." Riko explained.

"... So she is still alive?" Boryslav asked, "Then she left you? By yourself? In an orphanage?" His tone became tense.

"Uh, y-yeah. But she did it for my safety." Riko explained. "I've been told that she made a lot of enemies in her life... so some would try to hurt her by hurting me."

The Stalker paused before sighing, closing his eyes. "_Stop acting like a damn hypocrite. Even she had a better reason than you did..._" He scolded himself, brushing away thoughts of his past as the orphans came to a stop.

"We're here." Shiggy simply said.

Boryslav looked up, noticing the faded looking building ahead of them. It was taller than most houses around as ivy could be seen growing atop its roof, window openings arranged by rows and columns were on every floor of the building. "I guess this is where we part ways." Nat surmised.

Riko let out a sigh, "Aw..." She then turned her head, "Will you visit us, Worn?"

Admittedly, he didn't expect that question, but the Stalker did answer. "I will try..." He then turned around toward the rest of the town, staring at his surroundings. Unsureness finally began to arise as the situation sunk in. Although they spoke English, he didn't know the written language of these people, or 'rune's... and there was also the case of currency. He doubted that roubles were usable here, meaning that the 5000 he had bought with him were now completely useless, he needed to make money and fast.

How was he going to survive and fit in here?

He scrunched a hand beneath his goatee as Shiggy seemingly read his mind.

"You could try and pass off as a foreigner who arrived recently, and that the gear you have is just gear developed by your nation via the usage of relics. There's a lot of nations around Orth, and not all of them are... 'openly' hostile to us." Nat nodded in agreement with that statement as Shiggy then paused, "But... Boryslav."

"Dah?" He asked as he squatted, knowing that the boy had something important to share.

"Be careful who you trust... In Orth and in The Abyss."

Boryslav smiled, "Then it looks like I am in my element." He slowly stood up, "Goodbye, little ones-"

"You three." A voice spoke up.

The group turned their heads toward the giant door of the orphanage. A tall woman stood there, dressed in black robes and cloth. Her face was slightly gaunt, complemented with a set of sharp eyes. Her hair was black and accented with white strains, with two long curls going down each ear. Both of her hands rested on a walking cane, giving off more of an impression of authority than age. She noticed Boryslav before narrowing her eyes at him.

"Who are you?"

He could feel her hardened gaze, as well as the worried looks of the three children beside him. Boryslav paused for a moment before lightening his stance, thinking up an explanation and considering Shiggy's advice.

Finally, he spoke.

"Just a foreigner to these parts. I got lost around the town, Orth is just too much of a wondrous place." He then turned his head toward the trio, "Luckily these three children who were returning from The Abyss helped guide me in the proper direction."

She watched him for a moment before turning her head to the three kids. "Is this true?"

"Y-Yes, Director." Nat answered. "M-Mr. Shevchenko was lost. S-So we told him we could help find his way from the orphanage."

Not a whole lie, not a whole truth.

Yet 'Director' turned her head back to Boryslav, staring at him intently and clearly not satisfied with the explanation.

"_I hope I still got it._" Boryslav silently thought.

"And why did you come here, to Orth?" She asked, eyes still scanning him intently.

Boryslav shrugged, "Oh, you know. To see the sights and sounds, maybe meet a beautiful woman or two... Luckily,-" He then smiled, looking her straight in the eye. "-I think I just fulfilled the latter."

There was a reason why his unit called him 'Smooth-Talker' back in the day.

She blinked.

"Oh! Where are my manners?" Boryslav then walked up to her, reaching a hand forward. "Can I ask for your name, Pretty One."

"I-" She then slowly took his hand with her black-clothed glove, "My name is Belchero."

"Ah, of course." He then put both of his gloves together, fingers softly grasping at her hand. "My last name is Shevchenko, but since we are already on a first-name basis, you can call me Boryslav." He then gently let go, her hand still out before she shook herself out of her stupor. "It must be hard running an orphanage with you and your husband-"

"Oh, I-" Belchero then paused, "I do not have a husband. I am unmarried."

"What?!" Boryslav exclaimed, "Impossible."

Belchero slowly nodded, her usually colorless face now beginning to turn a slight shade of red as the children stared with wide eyes.

"_Now, the killing blow._" Boryslav thought as he leaned in close to whisper, a tone inaudible to the trio. "Well, luckily for me, I am without a lover. And I believe you exceed _all _my expectations. Perhaps we can warm a bed sometime, if you want..."

That was it.

Belchero's face turned as red as a tomato, her eyes wide. She then turned around, covering her mouth with her free hand. "S-Scandalous... S-So scandalous." He heard her whisper to herself before quickly leaving, not even bothering to call back the orphans.

"_Still got it..._" Boryslav thought with satisfaction.

Nat and Shiggy's jaw simply dropped as Riko spoke up, a shine in her eyes.

"Worn really is beyond a white whistle! He managed to make Director blush!"

Another person walked out of the orphanage just as Riko finished that declaration, head turned as if having noticed Belchero walk in earlier. He then turned his head to the group. He was a young man, with white hair and bright blue eyes, a frown could be seen on his face, not of anger but more of concern. "You three are very late. Did something happen in the first layer?"

"Er...-" Nat paused as the young man then looked at Boryslav.

"Who's this?"

"_Ah Говно, here we go again._" Boryslav thought, Shiggy speaking on his behalf.

"This is Mr. Shevchenko. He's a foreigner. We were guiding him around town because he got lost."

The young man narrowed his eyes before relenting, probably relieved that the kids had returned to the orphanage. "Alright then. Return inside." They obliged, Shiggy, Nat, and Riko giving silent waves goodbye. Boryslav returned the gesture, watching the children leave behind the giant door. The young man then turned his head back, "Answer me truthfully. Did you come to Orth to illegally delve?"

"No." Boryslav answered, "At least, that is not what I plan to do."

The young man crossed his arms, "Then why are you equipped head to toe in relics?"

Boryslav shook his head, "All that I wear is human-made."

That was technically true. What he used on the other hand...

"... Alright then." The young man relented, "I believe you." He then turned around, but not before pausing at the doorway. "A word of advice, Orth isn't a friendly place for foreigners. I suggest you be careful..."

"Why tell me this?" Boryslav asked.

"Because I have a feeling you could use what I've told." The young man responded before closing the door behind him.

Boryslav was left alone, the sun now having disappeared over the mountains that enclosed the ringed town. He turned around, silently leaving the courtyard of the orphanage.

* * *

"блядь..." Boryslav mumbled to himself as he walked the dark streets alone. Night had already fallen, the only sources of light being from nearby houses, but even that was starting to disappear.

He checked his surroundings again, noticing that most of the wooden buildings around him were ramshackle and in disrepair. Not a soul walked the streets here, Boryslav now completely on his lonesome.

"_It seems that I have wandered to the wrong part of the town._" Boryslav thought, "_Maybe I should have asked if they had room at that orphanage..._"

And then he heard a grunt nearby, commotion coming from an alleyway beside him. He turned his head, slowly walking toward the side of the opening and knelt as voices could be heard. Dim lighting coming from a nearby shack acted as the only source of illumination for Boryslav, as five figures could be seen, four of which were surrounding what appeared to be an elderly man.

"We're trying to be really civilized here, Old Man." The lead mugger said, his voice menacing as he held a knife in his hands. "If you don't tell us where you put it, then we're going to have a real problem here."

"I told you-" The elderly man hacked and coughed behind his bushy beard, clutching a stab wound. "I'm not telling you anything!"

"_Stubborn Old Man..._" Boryslav thought before analyzing the situation. Four thugs, all of them dressed in rags, all of them young and possibly impressionable at some point, reduced to this... Boryslav shook his head in silence before thinking. "_Now, do I really want to get involved?_"

They were muggers, and there was a good chance that they had Orth currency on them, money that he could use. Not only that, but he would be committing assault and be morally in the clear. Practically speaking, it was the perfect opportunity for him.

He slipped on his gas mask before standing up, Boryslav knowing just how to lull them into a false sense of security. He waved cheerfully at the group. "Привіт!"

The thugs turned their heads to him, as did the Old Man.

"А ну чики брики и в дамки!" Boryslav yelled nonsensically behind his gasmask, walking unbalanced as if he were drunk. "Aya! Hardbass!"

"Who's this weirdo?" One of the thugs asked. Two of them began to laugh as the leader smirked, letting go of the old man as the two others held him up to the wall.

"Горілка! Горілка!" Boryslav exclaimed, the leader slowly walking up to him. "_That is right. Get close. Get separated._"

The leader brandished his knife. "You drunk or something? Kind of picked a bad time to-"

And then Boryslav swung a powerful left hook, catching the man across the face. The leader was instantly knocked out, body falling like a sack of potatoes as he smashed against the wood walls of the alleyway. The rest of the thugs and the old man stared with shock, Boryslav looking down at the leader's unconscious form.

"Засранеес..." Boryslav simply muttered before looking at the other three, "Well?" the lenses on his gas mask were dark, "Who is next?"

The one closest to him seemed to shake, body quivering as if his body was doing a coin flip between flight or fight. He chose the latter, letting out a shrill cry before charging forward with a rusty pipe.

Boryslav simply met his charge, his VDV hand-to-hand training kicking in as he ducked under the clumsy swing. He retaliated with a swift punch, striking the man quickly in the chest as the thug let out a gasp before launching a kick into the side of his shin to disbalance him. Boryslav then wrapped one arm around the thug's waist and the other around his thigh, lifting him up sideways before slamming him into it the ground.

A pained moan escaped the thug's lips as he simply laid there, perhaps in too much pain to move as Boryslav looked up at the other two who were still holding onto the old man. They looked at Boryslav before looking at each other, and within an instant, they broke off into a sprint, running away from the scene as the old man fell to the floor.

"Smart." Boryslav simply murmured before walking up to the old man and lending a hand. "Hey, you alright, Старик?"

"Gah..." The old man batted away his hand, "I'm fine. I could've handled those thugs myself."

Boryslav rolled his eyes behind his gas mask, "Sure you could have, Пердоон стары..." He then looked at the blood on the old man's hands, "At least let me look at your wound."

"I've suffered worse in The Abyss. It's just a flesh wound. Just-..." The Old man sighed, "-I need some bandages. Do you have any?"

The Stalker nodded, reaching into his pack to produce a roll. He then cut a piece off, handing it to the old man. "Here." He gave it to the old man before turning around, kneeling down next to one of the unconscious thugs and rifling through his pockets. "... Nothing." Boryslav said to himself, before moving on to the leader. He checked his pockets before pulling his hand out, a few silver coins held in his fingerless glove. "_This must be the currency._"

The Old Man picked himself up with a grunt, stumbling a bit but otherwise maintained himself. "Where did you learn how to fight like that?"

"I was in the military." Boryslav simply answered, pocketing the coins.

"You an illegal Delver?" The old man asked.

Boryslav shook his head, "No. I am not if you would believe me."

The old man seemed to scan him for a moment before walking to the side of the alleyway, he then knelt down, removing a wooden box to reveal a small hole in the ground. Reaching in, he took out what seemed to be a big bag of silver.

"So that's what those thugs were looking for." Boryslav said, the old man turning to him.

"You gonna attack me for it?"

Boryslav shrugged, "If you give me a reason to, then yes." He then took off his mask, giving the old man a warry look. "But so far, there is none. All I am looking for right now is a place to stay."

The old man then walked past him. "Then follow me. My house is in the east district, outside of The Wharf."

* * *

Boryslav followed the old man out of the south district, returning to the more pleasant parts of Orth.

He wasn't sure if he could trust this old man, but as of now, with night already in full effect and having found no place to stay, he was kind of out of options. Besides, the old man didn't seem like a deceitful-type, just... cranky.

"Here." The old man said, opening a door and walking. Boryslav looked up to see that it was two stories high and with windows, a rich medieval house.

"_This house looks nice. What the hell was the old man doing, picking up a stash from the bad part of town?_"

He silently followed in after the old man.

The old man flipped a switch, lights turning on to reveal a beautifully decorated interior, filled with various furniture and a big dining table in the middle. A Delvers jacket and hat could be seen hanging off a nearby wall as if on display, black whistle seen with it. Boryslav blinked, if he remembered what Shiggy had told him, a black whistle meant the old man was just behind a white whistle in terms of experience in The Abyss, a veteran in his own right.

"You can sleep in one of the guestrooms upstairs. But be quiet, my granddaughter is-"

"Grandfather Taro?" A girls voice asked.

The two of them turned their heads to see a young girl in a nightgown staring at the two of them from the steps of the stairs. The old man, now confirmed as Taro, gave the girl a tired smile. "Orla, my Eternal Fortune. What are you doing up so late?"

Orla peered from behind the wooden handrails. "I-I was waiting for you to come back." She then turned her head to Boryslav, "W-Who's this?"

Taro turned his head to Boryslav, "A friend of mine. He'll be staying here overnight. Just go back to sleep, please..."

The young girl seemed to pause before slowly nodding, climbing back up the stairs. Boryslav watched as she left before turning his head back to the old man, digging through a cupboard as he grunted in pain. "Damn it." He then stood up, wincing in pain. "I need a drink..."

"What you need to do is sit down." Boryslav demanded, "I'll get you a drink."

Taro paused before slowly nodding, passing the Stalker and sitting down on a giant sofa chair. Boryslav grabbed a bottle of vodka from the side of his bag, unscrewing the top and pouring it into the cap as a shot.

"Here." Boryslav said, handing it to the old man. Taro took a sip from the cap, licking his lips in satisfaction.

"Ah, this has a nice taste." He then turned his head, "What is this?"

Boryslav sat on one of the couches, "Vodka. A liquor from my homeland."

The old man took another sip, pausing for a moment. "What's your name, foreigner?"

"Boryslav. Boryslav Shevchenko." The Stalker answered, "But you can call me Worn."

Taro shrugged, "Well, 'Worn', you already know my name... and my granddaughter's..." He then turned his head, "Are you going to be a threat to us?"

"Are you?" The Stalker asked, to which Taro shook his head.

"No. Guests are sacred in this house..." The old man murmured.

"What were you doing in that shithole before?" Boryslav asked as he looked around the fine interior. "It seems to me that you are rich."

"Rich? Ha." Taro chuckled bitterly, "I'm struggling to make ends meet for this house."

"But you are a black whistle, dah? I heard your types collect hundreds of relics to sell."

"That was a long time ago... when I could delve on my own and not have to worry about my age." Taro answered, "My son was supposed to pick up after me, but he died on his second delve, right after becoming a black whistle." He shook his head. "And as for my son's wife, my daughter in law, she got sick on her 20th birthday, a few days after giving birth to Orla. Apparently, she was the first case of some mysterious disease that's now going around, and no doctor could cure her. By the end of the exact same day, she passed away. All she could do was pray... " He sighed, taking another sip. "Now I'm behind paying my own taxes and rent for this house, and the guild won't give me enough for the relics I've collected and kept throughout my life, so I head over to The Wharf to get them sold illegally, it's dangerous... but they pay well over there."

Boryslav looked to the side, "Sounds like this godforsaken hole takes more than it gives..." He then paused, "_A feeling all too familiar._"

Taro nodded in agreement before wincing in pain again, "Agh, damn it..."

"Are you alright, Taro?"

"Yeah I'm- Eurgh, fine..." He clutched his bandaged wound, "I'll just sleep this off."

"You will be dead in the morning if you try." Boryslav simply said before pausing for a moment. "_Can I trust this old man?_" He then made his decision, reaching into one of his pouches. "I have something that might help."

He had a total of 5 artifacts on him, not including the Soul he had found in the truck, or the fragments of a Gravi and Goldfish built into his Mossberg and backpack respectively. Worn reached in to produce an orb, this time consisting of green unstable particles, small miniature swirls giving the impression of tiny galaxies on its surface as it churned brightly.

Although a Soul had regenerative properties, the Firefly artifact took that prospect to a whole other level.

"What is that?" Taro asked, staring at it in wonder. "It's... beautiful."

Boryslav held it close to the old man as Taro let out a small gasp, as if he could now breathe more easily. The lines on his elderly face seemed to fade by just a tiny bit, and as for the wound... Boryslav held the Firefly away, removing the bandage off the old man's stomach to show bare skin, no sign of a wound ever existing or a scar to detail its history. The Stalker then put away the artifact as quickly as he had bought it out, closing the pouch.

"What..." Taro spoke, "What type of relic was that?"

"A Firefly." Boryslav answered, "Speeds up your bodies regeneration." Boryslav then leaned back in his chair, "You may not believe it, but it is not from The Abyss. It is... from somewhere similar. Where I am from."

"..." Taro then nodded, "I believe you. I've been collecting relics for most of my life, I've never seen any like that one before, and neither has anybody detailed anything similar. It's beyond aubade, and the fact that you managed to utilize it like a white whistle..." The old man then turned his head to the Stalker. "Who are you Worn?"

Boryslav shrugged, "Just a foreigner in a foreign land..." He then stared at the old man, "But the question is, and it feels wrong to ask this now, but will you try and steal it from me while I am asleep?"

Taro paused before shaking his head, "No. Even if I have to resort to doing illegal acts, I don't steal... and even if I did, I don't think it'd be a sane decision to steal from you." The old man then stood up without any sign of difficulty. "Wow, that Firefly worked wonders on my body. I feel 10 years younger!"

"... And you probably are now..." Boryslav murmured as Taro turned his head to him. "But if I used it on you for too long, you would have suffered long term from radiation. Just carrying it begins to destroy your body from the inside."

"I don't know what 'radiation' is." Taro admitted, "But it already sounds dangerous enough..." the old man then asked, "How do you prevent that from happening to you then?"

"Another artifact I use neutralizes it." Boryslav simply answered.

Taro looked down before drinking the rest of the Vodka poured inside the cap and handing it back to Boryslav, "Right." He then turned around, walking toward the staircase. "I've made up my mind. You can stay here for as long as you want."

"That would be unnecessary, I only need the night-"

"And I need to repay you for all that you have done for me." Taro responded before walking upstairs. "You can take my son's room... it's... the tidiest I have right now..."

"Dah." Boryslav acknowledged, taking a quick swig from his bottle of Vodka before closing it with the cap.

At least he figured out a place to stay...

* * *

It was a nice room.

A queen-sized bed next to a window as a single standing frame could be seen on a table next to the bed. Boryslav peered down at it, noticing a portrait of a smiling young man in a Delver outfit, a scruffy mustache on his face.

"That's my son."

Boryslav turned his head, noticing Taro standing from the doorway.

"It's customary to receive a portrait of yourself when you become a black whistle." Taro smiled, walking past Boryslav to pick up the frame. "He was so excited that day... could barely even hold still for the artist to draw him."

The Stalker paused before walking next to the old man, "It's good that you have something to remember him by..."

Taro nodded before placing the frame back down. "To tell you the truth, I was proud when he was preparing to go down his second time. " Taro recalled, "He had been assembled into a team by the powers that ran Orth itself, sent to retrieve an artifact of immeasurable value. I didn't think he'd be in any danger, it was being led by two white whistles after all, but foreign nations had also found out about the relic... sending their own Delver's to fight for it." Taro shook his head, "Only the white whistles survived... and they weren't able to retrieve my son's body."

Boryslav could sympathize, or at least, compare it with what his father had gone through. There was a reason why Boryslav didn't have any uncles, or grandparents, or granduncles. All of them had perished fighting the Germans in the so-called Great Patriotic War. And despite that, his father simply carried on, creating a life for himself after fighting in the Eastern Front.

Such a shame Boryslav failed to do the same.

He shook his head, banishing his thoughts as Taro turned to leave. "Alright, you're probably tired." Taro looked back, "Goodnight, Worn."

"Goodnight to you too, Taro." Boryslav responded as the old man closed the door behind him. Boryslav was left alone in the darkness, walking toward one of the walls to switch on the light.

It was about time he made a check-up on his own inventory.

He took off his giant backpack and placed it on the bed with ease, opening it up. His organization from constant drilling in the VDV showed, as he was able to neatly unpack everything in a short span of time. Boryslav then went on to remove the entirety of his Sunrise suit, the clothes he wore underneath being a sleeveless striped _Telnyashka _as well as a pair of thin black and white track pants, his boots still on.

First was his reconnaissance gear. A pair of binoculars, military-grade with advanced threat detection. Night vision goggles, meant to be put over his head and drawn down. His Detector was also marked, the Svarog having done its job detecting the Curse anomaly.

"_Maybe it can be used to find relics... if I ever decide to go down that hole._" Boryslav wishfully thought, looking down at his Personal Digital Assistant, or PDA. The power for it was fortunately renewable, as one could simply leave it outside to be solar charged. He had also used the grey device to snap a picture of that Splitjaw. Yet a few features were useless now, that being the map and communication, as there was no other Stalker but him.

Medical became accounted for. Five small orange medkits, three dark blue army medkits, and two bright yellow scientific medkits, giving him 10 medkits in total. 2 full rolls of bandages, not to stop bleeding on himself but for others. Two blister strips of Radioprotectant and Psy-block, giving him 4 of both pills. And finally, one Antidote for any dangerous poisons as well as 3 sets of anti-rad, both drugs requiring a needle to inject.

Food provisions came next, the first being the half-full bottle of Vodka, a canteen full of water, six cans of Tourist's Delight, a wrapped Diet Sausage and two cans of S.T.A.L.K.E.R energy drink. Boryslav tapped his chin, "_A decent amount. I will probably end up eating whatever they serve here, but it is good to have some food for emergencies._"

And then came the weaponry.

The only ammunition he had used so far was half a magazine of his AK-74, as well as two shells from his Mossberg shotgun and none from his silenced M1911 which left him with... 4 and a half magazines full of 5.45x39mm, 18 shells, 3 clips of .45 ACP., and 3 F1 grenades.

He was stocked well on ammo for now, but resupplying was going to be a problem. Boryslav attempted to recall his childhood, remembering the times he had helped put clips together for his father's old Mosin Nagant, or filled shells for the double-barrel. He generally knew the process, and the possibility of there being gunpowder in this world, but the materials for the shells and casings... he would have to figure that out another time.

There was also the matter of their written language which he would have to find a way to learn, as well as finding a way to make a suitable income.

Boryslav yawned, stretching his back as he lied down on the bed.

"_A Stalker's hands are never idle..._" He quietly thought, drifting off into sleep.

* * *

**Wow. That is a lot of words. Thanks for the reviews btw! Admittedly, there's not a lot of traffic for both of these fandoms, but the reviews come to show that the people who have read my story so far have come to enjoy it! A word of warning though, the next chapter is going to take longer to come out, I'm going overseas somewhere, but I'll try to see if I can work on it.**

Translations:

Бувай - Buvay - Goodbye

Говно - Govno - Shit

блядь - Blyad - Fuck

Привіт - Pryvit - Hello

А ну чики брики и в дамки - Ah noo cheeki breeki i v damké - One, two you're on top! (which also translates to "Put a fucking bullet in his forehead!")

Горілка - Horilka - Vodka

Засранеес - Zasranees - Shithead

Старик - Starik - Old Man

Пердоон стары - Perdoon stary - Old Fart


	4. The Integration

"Hey, Smooth-Talker. Are you awake?"

Boryslav opened his eyes, a young man wearing an Afghanka and blue beret, Telnyashanka visible through a small V gap beneath his neck. He turned his head, a smile on his face. "No, I am having a nightmare after seeing your ugly face."

Dimitri, a native-born Russian from Moscow, laughed. "Ha! Fuck you!"

The low drone of the Mi-8 could be heard from inside, the Kush mountains of Afghanistan passing below. Boryslav and Dimitri were sat side by side within the helicopter, buckled comfortably... Or as comfortably one would get in an aerial troop carrier.

Dimitri laid back in his seat, wearing an identical uniform to Boryslav. "Man, I tell you, seeing these mountains constantly just makes me sick. I wish they put us in the desert."

"A desert?" Boryslav asked, "Any other soldier would survive, you on the other hand... That is pushing it."

Dimitri shook his head, "I'm starting to think we should have called you Shit-Talker."

The rest of the squad of paratroopers laughed, drowning out the noise of the propeller outside. Boryslav smiled, turning his head toward one of the windows.

A poof of smoke popped up in the distance.

He raised an eye in confusion before both widened, a small black homing dot growing bigger and bigger.

He turned his head back, letting out a yell.

"STINGER!"

The helicopter was hit, the feeling of freefalling ever-present as the Mi-8 fell to the earth.

* * *

Boryslav gasped, flinching from the position he slept in. He blinked before letting out a grunt.

God, he hated those types of dreams. Dreams like that were the reason why he had a secret emergency strap on his backpack. He rose up from his bed, still holding a silenced M1911 by his side before hearing a knock on the door to his room.

"Come in." Boryslav simply said, hiding the pistol beneath the covers.

Olga entered, the brunette girl stuttering in his presence.

"B-Breakfast is ready."

Boryslav nodded, "Ah, спасибі. I'll be down in just a moment."

The young girl nodded, closing the door as Boryslav pushed himself off the bed, putting away the pistol with the rest of his pack before walking out of the room.

Taro was cooking something, something good as the smell wafted from the kitchen and into the dining room. By the time he had reached down the stairs, the old man was bringing a piping hot pan from the kitchen.

Orla was already sitting at the table, her eyes wide as she stared at Taro. "Wow, grandfather Taro, you look so... young."

"Eh,-" Taro shrugged, smiling as he deposited the contents of the pan onto his daughter's plate. "-I always looked like this. Now eat up, my Eternal Blossom."

And she did just that, a relieved and happy smile on her face.

Taro turned to Borsylav. "Mornin'. I thought you military types always wake up early."

Borsylav chuckled, sitting down. "Not this one."

The old man scraped a fraction of the delicious morning stew onto Boryslav's plate, the Ukranian inspecting it. It seemed to be a mixture of mushroom and meat, with a few signs of scrambled egg mixed in. "Cпасибі." Boryslav thanked before eating a mouthful. His eyes blinked, the taste of the meat savory and the mushrooms somehow adding a tangy taste to the meal, and the eggs...

His eyes widened, "This is delicious. What is this?"

"Some local meat I bought at the market, but the mushrooms came from the first layer, as well as the eggs from Hammerbeak nests. I mixed it all within a broth and let it cook for a few hours." Taro then produced a loaf of bread from a side table, unwrapping it before cutting a piece off, handing it to Boryslav. "It goes well with some bread."

Boryslav paused for a moment, "Wait... do you know where this bread comes from?"

Taro raised an eye, "From the nearby mill? What's with that funny question?"

"It is just-" The Stalker recalled for a moment.

An image of himself popped into his head, sitting next to a campfire with a bunch of other Stalkers as he asked one of the biggest mysteries of The Zone.

"_Where does this bread come from?_"

He had remembered the apathetic shrugs they had given him.

"Nothing." Boryslav then hesitantly took the piece.

Taro gave him a weird look before turning toward his granddaughter as he handed her a piece of bread, "Orla, this is Worn. He'll be staying here."

"R-Really?" Orla asked, a hint of excitement in her voice. "F-For how long?"

"As long as he needs to." Taro simply answered.

Orla turned her head, "I-It's nice to meet you Worn! I-I'm sorry I-I didn't introduce myself before b-but-"

"Breathe, Little One." Boryslav interrupted with a hint of amusement. "It is good to meet you too, Orla."

She gave a cut nod before her eyes widened, almost as if she had just remembered something. "Oh! I'm still in my nightwear!" She then jumped off the chair, "S-Sorry! I'll come back as soon as I'm changed!" before quickly running upstairs.

Taro chuckled, looking toward the staircase. "That's my granddaughter alright... just as squeamish my daughter in law."

Borsylav nodded in agreement before Taro turned his head.

"So, Worn, any plans for today?"

"..." Boryslav looked up from his food, "A few. I need to find a job."

"Huh, a job?" Taro scratched his beard, "That... might be difficult."

Boryslav raised an eye, "How so?"

"Well, if there's one thing I know about my fellow countrymen, it's that they're extremely distrustful of outsiders."

"You trusted me." Boryslav responded.

"After you gained it..." Taro stared at the Stalker, "For other's, saving them from an alleyway mugging isn't going to conveniently arise."

Boryslav paused, deep in thought about his own predicament as Taro spoke up again.

"Speaking of which, where exactly are you from, Worn?"

The Stalker looked at the old man. "If I told you. You wouldn't believe me."

Taro narrowed his eyes, "Try me."

So he told the old man everything, at least what he had told the red whistles from yesterday. His country, Ukraine, which didn't exist in this 'world'. Boryslav had noticed glint's of curiosity twinkle within the Taro's eyes, but the old man did not even blink. After all, hearing what would be the impossible must have been a common occurrence when living next to The Abyss.

"... Amazing." Taro simply said.

Boryslav tilted his head, "So you believe me?"

Taro slowly nodded, "Of course. After what I've seen of you, that explanation does make sense, that and..." The old man nodded off, looking away as if something concerning had came to mind.

"And what?" Boryslav asked.

"No, it's just that... when you were fighting those muggers yesterday... I don't know how to explain it but,-" Taro then turned his head, a distant look in his eyes. "I felt something when you were fighting those muggers last night, like there wasn't anything behind that mask of yours."

A long moment passed, Boryslav simply staring forward as he looked away from the old man. "... You have been spending too much time in that hole old man."

Taro shrugged, "Ah, can't fault me. You kind of remind me of a white whistle, y'know?"

There it was again, white whistles, the supposed elites that Boryslav had heard of. He had only known the true identity of one so far, Riko's mother, Lyza the annihilator. Admittedly, Boryslav's curiosity had grown with every repeated mention of them.

"Okay, I'm dressed!"

The two men looked at the staircase, Orla having returned from her room.

* * *

The morning streets of Orth were busy.

Although it wasn't crowded, it still had many busy with their day to day lives. Hawkers yelled out their goods as farmers bought in their wares from the outskirts. Boryslav looked around, wearing his _Telnyashka _in place of his Stalker suit as Taro and Orla walked alongside him.

"Generally speaking, if you want to find a job, the market is a good place to start." Taro then paused, "Or would be if you were from Orth..."

Boryslav grunted, "Do they really distrust foreigners that much?"

Taro didn't respond, Boryslav quickly realizing something.

People were staring at him.

Whether they were working, walking, or standing, townsfolk close to Boryslav had stopped their tasks and simply watched his every move. Granted, they were not malicious or filled with suspicion, but their stares told Boryslav all he needed to know.

"_They can tell I am an outsider._"

Taro grabbed him by the arm, giving a friendly wave to a few of the townsfolk to cease their stares before guiding Boryslav away, Orla following in tow. "I think you get the picture."

Boryslav nodded in agreement, "Говно." Boryslav then let out a grunt, "There is also the case of your written language..."

"Orth Rune?" Taro asked, "What about-... Oh, right." The old man stroked his beard, "That definitely complicates things. I can't think of a job that'd hire someone illiterate."

"How about a Delver?" Orla asked.

The two men turned their heads toward the small girl, an innocent look on her face.

"I-I mean, Delvers, even those in Bell rank, get f-free education and benefits. I-I'm sure you'd be taught how to read Orth Rune if you became a legal Delver."

Taro's face seemed deep in pause before his eyes lit up with realization. "You're right! You're absolutely right, my smart eternal blossom!"

Boryslav raised a brow, "But you said people do not trust outsiders like myself, much less would a foreigner become one of your important Delvers."

"And you would be right." Taro admitted, "But here's the thing, I can recommend you."

The Stalker blinked.

"I may have hung up my jacket, but I was still a black whistle." The old man then chuckled, "While they may not allow foreigners to sign up, they never said anything about a foreigner being recommended. As long as you have me putting in a good word, then your admittance should be allowed." Taro then paused, "But the only question now is... do you want to?"

Boryslav took a moment to think, already knowing what Taro was asking. The Abyss, while not like The Zone, came with its own sets of dangers that he already had a taste of beforehand.

Did he really want to put his life in danger again?

Oddly enough, the question he viewed with indifference quickly became favorable by the second. Boryslav, for the life of him, could not even begin to see himself doing a normal 'civilian' job. He quickly deduced that he would merely grow bored, or dissatisfied, performing tedious tasks for profit.

Try as he might, the violence of The Zone had changed him. Or perhaps not changed but...

Created what he was today.

And thus, his answer was born.

"Where do I sign up?"

* * *

The Delver's guild was a huge building.

It was an amalgamation of tower-like structures put together, the paint on them scratched and faded as various flora seemed to grow on its surface. It seemed as if every building in Orth was built so incredibly long ago, perhaps beginning to become like the ancient ruins that infested the confines of The Abyss.

Boryslav walked atop the bridge that connected the building with the rest of the town, staring upward as Taro stood beside him, Orla staying back at the house.

"Ah, it's been a while since I was last here..." Taro admitted before turning his head, "Let's get inside."

The Stalker nodded as the two of them walked forward, Taro opening a large set of wooden doors. The first thing Boryslav had noticed was just how spacious the interior was. The ceiling extended upward, and kept extending toward a stained glass roof that let in natural light from the outside. Gondolas hung from above, clearly for decoration rather then operability as they idly hung from chains. Boryslav quickly noted the lack of people, the only sign of life being a tired-looking attendant stood at the desk.

"Alright, let me handle this." Taro whispered before walking forward, "Logi."

The attendant turned his head toward the old man before his eyes widened. "T-Taro?!"

Taro walked up to the front desk, "Get me a recommendation slip and a commission paper."

"R-Right away." Logi then paused, looking toward Boryslav. "Wait... who's tha-?"

"Did I stutter?" Taro asked, "Go and get those forms!"

Boryslav couldn't help but feel a small bit of amusement rise up, not out of joy for the attendant's treatment but rather coming to a comedic realization. The old man must have been a real hardass in his prime... almost reminding Boryslav of his instructor back when he was training for the VDV.

Taro turned toward him, "And now we wait."

The Stalker felt a question arise. "This is your HQ, Dah?"

"Yes." Taro confirmed.

Boryslav looked around, "It feels like I am in a crypt. Where is everyone?"

"Outside. Either in The Abyss, the appraisal house, or the tavern. The Guild HQ is really for storing important relics, or in your case, applying for a Delver license." Taro explained. Boryslav nodded in understanding as Logi returned, two pieces of paper in his hands. Taro took it, grabbing a quill from the table as he quickly filled it out. He then handed the paper to Boryslav, "I did the forms, now it just needs your signature."

Boryslav nodded, grabbing the quill before signing his name at the bottom.

Taro rolled the paper up, "And it's done." The old man turned toward Logi, handing the attendant the form. "Make sure Boryslav here leaves with a Bell."

* * *

Boryslav stared at the small golden jingle bell in his hand, Taro standing next to him as they stood next to the side of a running stream.

"... So I am supposed to wear this around my neck?"

Taro nodded, "Until you've made your first delve, you're obliged to wear it while studying..." Taro then paused, "But admittedly, it's usually little kids that wear bells... not fully grown adults."

Boryslav slipped it on, letting it hang from his neck before pausing for a moment.

"How does it feel?" Taro asked.

The Stalker paused, holding it up. "I feel like a damn farm animal."

Taro laughed, hearty and raucous. "Ha! That's the spirit! Don't worry, you can get that changed to a red whistle once you make your first delve."

"..." Boryslav chuckled, "I know I did not tell you this before, but when I popped up in your land, it was in the first layer of The Abyss."

"So you've been down there?" Taro asked.

Boryslav silently took out his PDA, Taro looking at the device. "This another one of your otherworldly gadge-?" before the old man's eyes widened, Boryslav showing him a picture of a shot up Crimson Splitjaw. "This picture... i-it's so clear. And that's a Crimson Splitjaw! You killed it?!"

"Juvenile. But yes, I did what I had to do."

"Well, I'll be- that's not something a lot of Delvers can accomplish."

Boryslav nodded before changing the subject, "So what happens now?"

"You may have traversed the first layer, and downed a Splitkaw, but you still need training. Officially, you're now a novice." Taro produced something from his leather pouch, a dusty and faded notebook. "Here."

The Stalker took it, opening it to reveal page after page of illustrations and Orth Rune, depicting various creatures of The Abyss. "What is this? A guide?"

"My personal notes." Taro explained, "The truth is, the most valuable thing a Delver could have when going down into The Abyss is information. The nation of Orth is very strict on what can be published about The Abyss. Maps, bestiaries, and catalogs are all regulated to lessen the chance of illegal Delvers utilizing them. So every Delver worth his or her salt at least documents what they see for their own personal Delves."

Boryslav stared at the book for a moment before closing it. It must have been easier to keep information locked about The Abyss compared to The Zone. Possibly because all info was limited to paper rather than having the ability to be sent through a wide variety of media, much like his PDA just now.

"That's your goal. Learn Orth Rune, memorize what's in this book. All that I've recorded goes all the way down to the fifth layer itself!"

"Got it." Boryslav said, "Where can I start learning Rune?"

"Belchero orphanage. It may be an orphanage, but it also acts as a school for Bell ranks. They'll definitely give lessons there." Taro finished.

Boryslav paused, "... Oh."

* * *

Jiruo calmly watched as the children went about their chores, hands crossed and a stern look on his face.

There was no Delving scheduled for today, so the current tasks were cleaning the orphanage, and afterwords, attend class. He scanned the place before a knock was heard on the door, the young man raising an eye as he walked up to the door and opened it.

A familiar figure that he had encountered yesterday stood there.

"Привіт." Mr. Shevchenko waved.

"You? What are you-?" Jiruo then noticed another figure standing next to the foreigner, his eyes widening. "Taro?"

Jiruo knew the elderly man as a black whistle of great renown. Which begged the question... why exactly was he with the foreigner that had randomly shown up at the orphanage last night?

And then he noticed another fact.

The foreigner was wearing a Bell.

"This is Boryslav." Taro simply said, "He'll be studying Orth Rune here." The old Delver then turned his head toward Boryslav, "And with that, I'm off. Good luck, Worn."

"And you too, Старик."

Taro chuckled, "I don't even know what that means." before walking off, leaving Jiruo and Boryslav alone. A few seconds passed, Boryslav scratching the back of his shaved head.

"So... where do I begin learning?"

For Jiruo, the past two days had been somewhat of an enigma. First, Shiggy and Nat had found what would be considered third-grade relics from the first layer, which should have been extremely rare. He had seen Belchero with a blush on her face (something which he did not think possible), and the foreigner he had seen off yesterday had shown up at the orphanage doorstep again, now a Bell rank...

Jiruo took a moment to respond.

"Right this way..."

* * *

"Whattya think we're gonna learn today?!" Riko asked with a hint of excitement as she put the broom back into the closet.

"It's Rune read class..." Shiggy answered, "I don't think it's going to have anything to do with creature study this time."

"Aww!" Riko bemoaned, Nat laughing.

"Pfft, you know Leader told us yesterday that it would be Rune read class, right?" The trio walked through the doorway, "You sure forgot about that qu-"

They both bumped into Shiggy, the boy had stopped in front of them as Riko let out a yeep.

"Hey, what's the big id-" Nat spoke with a hint of outrage before noticing what Shiggy was looking at.

Boryslav.

The Stalker was sitting at the bottom row of the wall desks, no longer wearing his green suit but instead a blue and white striped undershirt. A Bell hung around his neck, even though none of the kids had ever seen an adult wear one before. He casually leaned back against the chair before turning his head to the trio, giving a short wave.

"Ah, Привіт, Little Ones." He then looked above him. "Weird set up you have here. I do not believe I have ever seen desks mounted on a wall before..."

Needless to say, their jaws dropped.

* * *

**DONE. Not as long as the last chapter, but I figured I would update Created by Zone with a chapter before updating my other story, Skiajati. This story is going to go on an interesting route, because as I said before, this takes place many, many months before the main events of the show. I won't spoil too much about the next chapter, but I'll just straight up tell that Worn is a quick learner...**

**I'm also genuinely surprised at how many people have picked up on this story. To tell you the truth, I knew the lack of stories from both fandoms would mean that traffic of views would be low, but from what I've seen so far, those that have read this story have taken an immense liking to it... so thank you for reading Created By Zone and enjoying my story.**

**P.S. Sorry for any spelling mistakes.**


	5. The Passing of Time

Boryslav leaned forward in his desk, facing the blackboard as it became abundantly obvious of his status as 'Elephant in the room'.

A few kids giggled, others whispered, and some were absolutely silent.

It felt as if he was in beginning level class again, which he was.

Jirou wrote a few glyphs on the blackboard, Belchero walking in. She noticed Boryslav sitting, pausing for a moment, before continuing, completely ignoring his presence as she came up and whispered to Jiruo

Boryslav's perceptive hearing was able to pick up the general gist of the conversation, with Belchero demanding an explanation on why he was here, to which Jiruo simply replied.

"- Bell rank."

Belchero then turned away and sat down, resting both hands against her cane as she gave Boryslav a dirty look.

The Ukrainian simply smiled back, giving her a wink as Jiruo spoke up, the whispering ceasing. "Before we begin, director Belchero would like to speak."

She remained seated, eyes scanning around the classroom. "I hope you all understand that the ability to read Netherworld Glyphs is not just a skill, but a necessity as important as breathing. Other nations may also runes, but the language of Orth is one originating from The Abyss itself. If you ever wish to be Delvers, one needs to know how to read and write like one." She then looked at Boryslav. "We... also have a new student. Boryslav Shevchenko, a foreigner, will be joining the class."

A few children whispered before Belchero pounded the end of her cane against the floor.

"Do not speak while I am speaking!"

Boryslav almost flinched alongside the rest of the kids. "_Talk about a harsh mistress. She's the polar opposite of a kindly Babushka..._"

The class was then silent, Belchero continuing. "As I was saying... He will be studying here to become a Delver like the rest of you. But make no mistake, as of this moment, he is on the same level as the rest of you, which means he will receive no special treatment."

Not that he was expecting any.

* * *

And so far, the lesson was a breeze.

It was surprisingly difficult at times despite being a class for children, but Jiruo was a very good teacher. A clear voice, loud diaphragm, and while not exactly enthusiastic, the young man still spoke with a tone of seriousness that commanded attention.

"_He would make a good Drill Instructor._" Boryslav silently thought, filling out a few notes. Then again, moon whistles were already instructors in a sense. Boryslav looked back up, stirring in his seat.

If there was one gripe he had so far, it was that the 'wall desks' were too small for his own comfort.

"_God damn these chairs... couldn't they have built this shit like a normal classroom?_"

* * *

Jiruo concluded the lesson, children streaming out. The moon whistle and the director carefully watched as Boryslav packed up his written notes into his backpack, climbing down from his desk.

"Boryslav." Jiruo called out, the foreigner perking up.

"Dah?"

"Come here."

Boryslav obliged, walking up to the two waiting adults. "Need anything?" He asked in his accented voice.

Jiruo crossed his arms, "Well you can start by telling us how exactly were you able to get Taro of all Delvers to offer a recommendation?"

The foreigner gave an amused smile, "It might not look like it, but the old man is not as harsh as he seems."

"_He's hiding the true answer._" Jiruo thought as Belchero stood up from her seat, a glare on her face.

"I've been on a few expeditions with Taro before. He would never hand a recommendation to some unknown foreigner."

"Then perhaps you did not know him well enough." Boryslav responded, Belchero's face turning a shade of angered red as the Ukranian chuckled. "You look pretty when you are angry, Babushka."

Jiruo cut in, holding a hand out. "That's enough. I'll have to ask you to refrain from trying to... court director Belchero." The instructor then sighed, yet kept his focused stare. "Can we at least trust that you won't be a danger to the children here."

"Dah, you have my word." Boryslav said, "If I wanted someone hurt...-"

His stare intensified.

"-you would have known by now."

Silence.

Boryslav then laughed, "Ha! I am joking! You should see the look you both had." He then turned around, without another word Jiruo and Belchero silently watching his back as he opened the door and left. Boryslav then turned away from the doorway, realizing that the three familiar kids were waiting for him.

Riko exploded.

"YOU BECAME A DELVER?!"

"блядь." Boryslav simply said.

* * *

Boryslav walked around the orphanage, notebook open in his hands as his three followers flanked him on both sides.

"So you saved a black whistle?" Shiggy asked, "And in return, he offered you a recommendation?"

"Dah." Boryslav confirmed.

Riko held stars in her eyes. "Wow! So you did it out of the kindness of your heart."

Boryslav shook his head, "Niet. It was because I figured the muggers had money on them, and my nose would be clean if I beat them up."

Nat sweatdropped, "So much for that."

"Judge all you want. It is a dangerous world out there, Children. I did what was necessary for myself." Boryslav then shrugged. "That is not to say I do not appreciate Taro. He is a good man, and I see why you look up to these Delvers."

"So then... why did you become a Delver?" Riko asked.

"Money." Boryslav instantly answered. "And it seems putting my own ass in danger is the only job I am good at." He finished with a small chuckle.

Shiggy straightened his glasses, "Well, considering the fact that you've managed to bend all the rules of The Abyss on its head... I suppose being a Delver would only make sense at this point."

Boryslav nodded in agreement before Riko rushed forward, hugging his leg. The Ukrainian flinched, raising his arms in surprise. "I'm so glad, Worn! I was really hoping to see you again! Now that you're actually studying alongside us-" She then looked up. "-we'll learn how to be Delvers together!"

The Stalker put a hand on her forehead, pushing her away from him as she kept that same big smile. "As long as you give me personal space, Dah?" She nodded, Nat and Shiggy standing by.

And as the three stood before him, Boryslav had to wonder what the future had in store for him.

A voice broke him from his musings.

"There you are."

The Ukranian turned his head, revealing Jiruo holding a broom. The moon whistle then held the broom forward, pushing it into Boryslav's hands.

"As a trainee studying in Belchero orphanage, you have to do your fair share of chores here. That includes sweeping the floors of the building."

"... Dah." Boryslav simply said.

It was like training as a VDV all over again.

The trio could already sense his brief despondency, Nat crossed his arms. "Well, hey, at least you don't have it as bad as us kids. I mean, I know for a fact that Director isn't going to string you up naked cause you're an adult."

Boryslav paused before he turned his head in shock, "She does what?!"

* * *

Boryslav sat atop the bed, silently reading.

A week had passed ever since being integrated into the orphanage, and so far, he could read the first section of Taro's notebook. The old black whistle had written the book in an order of importance, with the 1st layer being the first section and the rest following being the 2nd, 3rd and so on.

"_Bluntmouth?_" Boryslav thought to himself, scrunching his eyes. "_No, wait... that symbol means hammer. So then it is Hammerbeak._" He then leaned back, murmuring to himself. "It sounds better anyway." He then casually reached to the side of his bed, pressing a button on his PDA.

Bandit Radio began to play.

He smiled, motioning his head to the beat as he continued reading.

And then the door slammed open, Taro holding a rusted pickaxe as the old man's granddaughter stood behind him. "Where the hell is all that racket coming from?!"

Boryslav quickly realized that the phonograph had not been invented yet...

* * *

Taro leaned against the railing alongside Boryslav, the former smoking from a pipe as the two stared down at the dark chasm that was The Abyss.

"So you are not pulling my leg here, Старик? I can find an upside-down forest in the 2nd layer of this godforsaken hole?"

The old man grunted, "Humph, who's the retired Delver here?"

"Right." Boryslav then sighed, "It is just that I am not a big fan of forests..."

"Why's that?" Taro asked, taking another puff. "Had one back in that 'Zone' of yours?"

Boryslav nodded, "We called it The Red Forest. A dreadful place. And with a name like that, you think it would be pretty." Boryslav shook his head, "Rotting trees, gnarled roots, and mutants... too many fucking mutants. Even the luckiest of Stalkers vanished without a trace in that forest. I almost joined their ranks if I was not saved at the last moment by some crazy bastard who somehow thrived in that wretched place." The Ukranian paused before chuckling, "I do not mean this out of disrespect, but I am sure he would put both the most experienced of Stalkers, and your white whistles to shame."

Taro raised an eye, "Oh, is that so? Who was he?"

"Another old man like you. He didn't have a name."

Boryslav then turned his head.

"But he called himself Forester."

* * *

"What danger level is this creature?" Jiruo asked.

Boryslav was the first to raise his hand, the instructor pointing at the Ukranian. "It is a Madokajack. Serious level." The man then leaned back casually behind his desk and continuing his confident recital. "They are found in the 3rd layer, but as long as you avoid their dens, you should be safe."

"Very good, Shevchenko." Jiruo said before turning toward the rest of the class.

* * *

Boryslav was on an important mission.

Grocery shopping.

Taro had run out of Furpong meat, so it was up to Boryslav and Orla to go to the market and buy some more. Otherwise, there could be no stew. A very reasonable arrangement.

"This way, Uncle Worn!"

He smiled at that, reminiscing when she had first begun referring to him with 'uncle'. Boryslav didn't even know what to say at the time. "Alright, I am coming. If only I was as youthful as you."

Orla giggled, "Y-You're not that old, Uncle Worn."

They reached the market, Boryslav looking around. Admittedly, this was his first time in the market. The first thing he had noticed was how lively it was as scores of people walked to and fro to check out wares. Orla guided Worn, with Worn keeping a watchful eye over her as per Taro's request.

"The butcher's stall is just up ahead." Orla spoke, pointing at the hanging piece of meat put on display. "I-I'll ask them for a cut."

Boryslav nodded, standing back as he watched the young girl. The exchange was quickly performed, and soon she returned with a bloodied bag in her hand.

"Okay! L-Let's go."

He nodded, the two of them on their way as they passed a shop. Orla then stopped for a moment, head peering at the window. Boryslav turned, "What is wrong?"

The Stalker then realized she was staring at a sign.

Recently imported! Rice candy from East Beolsk!

"Oh." Boryslav turned his head to her, "Is it the candy you are looking at?"

Orla froze up for a moment before turning away. "Y-Yeah... but I don't wanna spend any of grandfather's money..."

"Well, then it is a good thing you will not have to." Boryslav said as he reached into his own pocket, producing a few silver coins that he had picked up from those muggers a few weeks ago. "Your Uncle Worn has this."

She seemed to stutter and protest, reasoning that such a thing wasn't necessary. Yet Boryslav had none of it, walking past her and opening the door to the store. Orla then seemed to reluctantly follow, entering the store with him as they walked inside, the door closing behind them. The first discernible noise was the sound of a ticking grandfather clock. The interior was a bit aged, but was maintained well.

A lady with orange hair sat behind the counter, already beginning to stand.

"Hello! Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, how much is that candy you are advertising outside?" Boryslav asked.

"A silver for each jar." The woman said before blinking, "Hey... aren't you..."

Boryslav tilted his head as Orla walked to his side, the woman's eyes widening.

"Little Orla! Long-time no see!"

Orla seemed to shrink, "H-Hi Auntie Laffi."

Boryslav looked between the two as Laffi turned her head back to him. "So the rumors are true. You're the foreigner with a bell rank who's residing in Taro's house."

"Yes, that is me." Boryslav answered before spotting a picture behind her. She was standing lovingly in the arms of a bear of a man, with said man harboring a Delver jacket and black whistle. "So I guess I am the talk of the town?"

She nodded, "I mean, not to offend, but it's just so strange to have someone not from Orth training to be a Delver."

"Ah, damn. Looks like my cover is ruined." Boryslav joked, "Now how am I supposed to steal any of your important secrets?"

Laffi chuckled.

"_Finally, someone with a sense of humor._" He then gestured to the photo. "So I am going to assume your husband also knew Taro?"

She turned before turning back, nodding, "Oh yes, Hablog and Taro have been on a few Delves together. Taro also used to come in here for Delving supplies." Laffi then shrugged, "Not so much today though." She then turned her head to the young girl, "But I remembered the last time he came in was with you, Orla. My goodness, you've grown so much!"

Orla shriveled with shyness at the compliment.

"Oh, almost forgot. Let me get what you came in here for." Laffi then reached underneath the counter, producing a small unopened crate. "These just got imported. So just give me a moment to-..." Laffi looked around, "Now where did I put that crowbar?"

Boryslav shrugged, reaching into his back holster to produce his Spetsnaz machete. "No need. I have a tool that can help." He then wedged between the gap, forcefully levering it off as the candies inside were revealed.

He tried handing her a silver, but to his surprise, she refused, giving him one of the jars instead. "Just take it."

"Are you sure?" Boryslav asked.

She nodded, "Yes. I insist. Consider it a long time gift."

"Ah, thank you." Boryslav then turned his head to Orla, handing her the jar. "What do you say?"

"T-Thank you, Auntie Laffi."

Boryslav turned back before spotting something. It was a jar full of a powdery substance, not grayish like gunpowder but pure black instead, sitting on a nearby shelf. Netherglyph was labeled in front of it.

Healing Charcoal

He pointed, "By the way, what is that charcoal over there used for?"

"Oh, that?" Laffi asked, "It's used for medicinal purposes."

"How?" Boryslav asked, picking up the jar from the shelf.

"Well, it's for Delvers really. They consume it sometimes to help alleviate the effects of the burden for the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd layer."

"I see..." Boryslav said, looking down at the jar.

There was no mistake, what he held in his hands was activated charcoal, one of the main ingredients of a gas mask filter. His whole time here, and he embarrassingly hadn't even considered how he would refurbish his filters. Luckily, the answer had found him.

"How much is it for the whole jar?" Boryslav asked.

Laffi stuttered.

* * *

"A mutant is..." Boryslav looked up from his sweeping. The trio, in addition to a younger blonde-haired boy named Kiyui, had gathered in front of him with wonder in their eyes. "You ever hear of an animal born with an unusual attribute?"

Nat and Riko shook their heads as Shiggy nodded. "I think I read once that there was a Furpong born with two heads once."

"Dah! That is a good example. The two heads are what is considered a mutation while the animal itself is what is called a mutant." Boryslav continued sweeping, "Those are the animals of The Zone. Former and mostly harmless animals changed into savage killing machines."

There was a long pause, Kiyui whispering. "Scary...!"

"How does it happen?" Riko asked, "I mean, how do the animals in The Zone become like that?"

Boryslav shrugged, "If I had a guess, it would probably be because of the radiation. But even I am not sure if that is the complete reason."

She nodded as Nat spoke, "Y'know, these mutants kind of sound like...-" He then tried to recall, "What was it called when a human suffers the burden of the 6th?"

"A Naherate." Shiggy answered.

Boryslav raised an eye at that, "I remember you mentioned the loss of humanity. So humans who ascend from the 6th become these... Naherates?"

That definitely seemed to fit the bill of a human turned mutant.

"Are they hostile?" He asked for clarity.

"Mm..." Shiggy scratched the back of his head, "Naherate aren't hostile, they're just mindless. So any that somehow wound up in the above layers and are found by Delvers are quickly put down. It's considered a mercy killing."

Boryslav paused for a moment, picturing a lunging Snork, and a telekinetic Burer. There was also... well, one that Boryslav chose not to remember too much of. Pseudogiants were nightmares and a half...

"But truly, they are not dangerous?"

"Er, no? At least, no encounter was ever dangerous just...-" Shiggy shrugged, "-sad I guess. They went too far down the Abyss and tried to climb back up, only to face the consequences."

A stark reminder that there were fates worse than death.

* * *

"Your presence is required."

Boryslav looked up from the notebook, realizing Belchero had stayed behind after class had ended. He tilted his head, partially out of curiosity, mostly out of amusement. "Oh? You are finally in need of my efforts?"

"Quiet!" She snapped before turning around, staff held in hand as she slowly walked out of the room. "Come with me at once."

The Stalker shrugged, pushing away from his desk as he stood up and followed. They left the room, walking upstairs to reach what appeared to be the trapdoor to an attic. Belchero reached forward, clasping the string and opening it, the wooden steps unfolding.

She then proceeded to walk upstairs, bringing her cane with her as Boryslav followed.

The attic was dark and dusty, with the only source of light being from a singular window at the end. Boryslav whistled, fanning the odd bit of dust that drifted through the air. "I hope you do not need me to clean this up. It will take ages."

"Do as your told-" She then crossed her arms, "And it may not be necessary."

Boryslav shrugged, "Alright, where do you want me to start?"

"Take everything that's in the back and place them into the shed. They will be disposed of there."

"Understood." Boryslav responded, immediately going to work. Belchero watched as he did so, her hands resting atop her cane as the Stalker began to stockpile things in preparation to bring outside.

He decided to start some idle chit chat.

"So-" Boryslav grunted, placing down a crate. "-how long have you been running this orphanage? It is named after you."

Belchero paused, silent for a few moments as Boryslav continued his work. She finally responded, "Since I retired from delving."

"Retired?" Boryslav asked.

She nodded. "I... fell, damaged my leg when I was returning from the 5th layer. It never fully healed, and I never fully recovered."

"I see." Boryslav said, picking up a dusty chest. "So then what made you decide to open an orphanage? The goodness of your heart?" Boryslav joked whilst carrying the object.

"Practicality. As much as it pains me to admit it, you may have noticed that Orth is not a nation of charity."

"You can say that again." Boryslav grunted, thinking of the desolate Wharf. "But what do you mean by 'practicality'?"

Belchero sighed, staring out the window. "Tell me, do you know how many orphans are in Orth?"

"A lot." Boryslav envisioned.

Belchero nodded. "Their parents, either born in Orth or arrive illegally consign themselves to the Abyss in the hopes of finding fortune. Of course, when they lose their lives down there, they leave their children behind to fend for themselves." Belchero looked up with a slight grimace, "And I... in a way, exploit that. I give the desire to these lost children the same desire their parents had, whilst teaching them in hopes that they'd avoid the same mistakes. And I use the successes they have at a young age to help fund the orphanage. I like to think I am giving them a better life, even though all I am doing is adding to the vicious cycle."

Boryslav was silent for a moment, and then he spoke. "Яблуко від яблуньки не далеко."

She tilted her head, "Excuse me?"

"It is a saying, where I am from. It means an apple is never far from the apple tree." Boryslav turned his head, "Children will always have the desire to take after their parents, and when this whole nation is built around the notion of conquering this damned hole... it is inevitable." Boryslav looked out the window, noticing a few kids playing in the courtyard, noticing their cheerful smiles. "I just wished you did not start them at such a young age..."

Belchero walked up next to him, staring down as she quietly spoke. "Delving has to be second nature by the time they grow older. If it helps, we at least have laws that prevent red whistles from Delving past the 1st layer, if they somehow pass the 1st layer, then a rescue party is sent to bring them back."

"And how long are they pursued, until they are considered a lost cause?" Boryslav asked rhetorically. "Past the 2nd layer. That is what I have read. Not only that, but it is still dangerous in the 1st layer anyhow."

She nodded before decisively changing the subject. "What of you, Shevchenko? What exactly was your occupation before coming to Orth?"

"Please, call me Boryslav. It has been a month now, Dah?" Boryslav joked, a decoy for him to quickly assemble a reasonable background.

Belchero raised an eye, crossing her arms in annoyance as he started.

"What is there to say about me? I was a soldier."

He marched with the VDV.

"Sent to foreign nations."

The passing mountains of Afghanistan.

"Did somethings I am not proud of..."

Silhouettes among the rocks.

"And when I returned to my country. I realized...-"

A woman cried.

"-I was not the same as I was before."

He then shrugged.

"And now I am here. I guess lost things have a tendency of finding their way to Orth, Dah?"

Belchero slowly nodded in agreement, a few moments passing before she spoke. "I suppose an apology is in order, Boryslav. I had thought you a spy when I first met you. But I see that is not the case."

"... Thank you." Boryslav continued his work, "Trust is an expensive commodity around here."

She smiled, "Indeed."

Boryslav chuckled, "Ah! So you can smile!"

Belchero seemed flustered, gritting her teeth as she lifted her head away in aggravation. "Just... get back to work."

* * *

Boryslav stood with the orphans, goatee now a stubble and shaved hair now regular as he harbored a face of discomfort.

The reason quickly became obvious.

The Delver jacket they had given him was much too small for him, clearly meant for a child as it barely covered his Telnyashka, and the mining hat fit more like a tight helmet, constraining the top of his head. "Do I really need to wear this shit?" He asked, lifting his finally acquired red whistle. "I mean, this is proof enough that I am on my first Delve, Dah?"

"Sorry, Boryslav." Jiruo spoke, sporting a look of sympathy. "I would let you wear your normal gear, but it's technically a formal law that a red whistle must wear a Delver jacket and hat on their first delve. If it helps, once you become a blue whistle, you are free to wear whatever you want as long as you have the whistle out for other Delvers to see."

"And when will that be?" Boryslav asked.

"Well, when you acquire the appropriate training, or if you somehow manage to prove yourself..."

"Bah..." Boryslav swung a frustrated arm, "So a while then?"

Jiruo nodded with a hint of uncertainty before turning around to the rest of the waiting children. "Alright, today Mr. Shevchenko will be joining us for the first time. Let's head out!"

And off they went, leaving the gates of the orphanage behind. Boryslav turned his head back, watching the vine grown building disappear as they walked the streets of Orth. Admittedly, it was quite the adjustment, but for an adaptive Stalker such as himself, he got through. And besides...

He had actually enjoyed the past month, but now was the time to get serious.

* * *

"-Boryslav, you'll go with Shiggy and Riko." Jiruo finished.

Boryslav nodded, "Understood."

The expedition had reached the beginning of the first layer, the atmosphere calm and peaceful as fields of windy grass laid before them. At the end of these fields was a long drop, filled to the brim of trails and cliffsides, the edge of the Abyss. He walked up to the two children, both already rearing to go as Nat waved goodbye, being assigned to another group. They waved back before heading out into their own assigned sector...

Down into the presumed known.

Boryslav silently looked around,

"How do you feel? Going off on your first Delve?" Riko asked with a hint of excitement and curiosity.

Boryslav paused for a moment, staring forward as a few Hammerbeaks could be seen fluttering in the distance. "You know what?"

He then reached into his back pocket, producing his Svarog detector. He had tinkered with it a bit last night, testing different frequencies with any leftover relics in Taro's house, and he came to a startling discovery. The relics produced some form of weak polarity, easily detected amongst the vacant ground. Which meant...

The Stalker silently turned it on, the Detector beeping.

He smiled.

"Ignore the map. We are going to stick together."

"Wha- Why?" Shiggy asked.

Wordlessly, he walked up to a mound of dirt, taking out his machete before bringing it down to cake off the edges. He then reached a hand forward, digging away and pulling something out of it.

It was a relic, a squeezable relic at that, low-tier due to its possible function and location, but a relic nonetheless.

"Because we are going to have to carry a lot of relics together." Boryslav replied, passing the relic to Riko as she stared at it with astoundment. "That, I am sure of."

* * *

It was more like stash finding then relic hunting.

By the time the group had actually even reached the intended destination of Boryslav's sector, their bags were already full. How it went was that Boryslav would use the Svarog to track the relic, and then they would find it. The issue was actually just carrying them around, forcing the group to dump the less valuable relics in favor of the higher rarity ones.

They were walking down a familiar grassy field as Boryslav looked forward, carrying his own load and missing when he had his Goldfish modified backpack.

"So that detector you used to sense the burden can also sense relics?" Shiggy asked.

The Stalker smiled, holding up the Svarog detector. "In a way... it senses artifacts where I am from, but I changed the settings to sense relics now."

"That's so cool!" Riko spoke, "With equipment like that, you could easily become a White Whistle!"

"Well..." Boryslav shrugged, "I will have to see if I would even want to in the first place. Sometimes it is better to be lesser-known, Dah?"

Riko tilted her head at that before the Stalker stopped, pointing ahead.

"Is that the place?"

Shiggy looked down at his map, "Er, yeah. Should be. It was right here."

The two of them looked around, Rikko looking between the two. "Eh? What are you two looking for?"

Boryslav then spotted something as his mouth hung agape, staring forward as his eye twitched. "Holy shit..." Sure enough, the truck he had met Iggy and Nat at had been taken apart and whisked away. The only sign of it ever existing being the crushed grass that was in the shape of a rectangle.

Rikko turned her head to Shiggy. "I don't get it? What's wrong? What is this place?"

Shiggy turned his head, "This is where Me and Nat met Boryslav."

"Wha-!? Really?!" Rikko asked excitedly. "So then that must mean this is where you killed the Splitjaw as well?"

"Yeah. But-"

"Nothing's left." Boryslav finished, "I thought we could make a detour and see if we can take anything that was leftover." He then looked around the place before turning to Shiggy. "Any idea on who could have done it?"

Shiggy shrugged, "If I had a bet, it must've been illegal Delvers. It would have been the talk of the town if it was taken to the appraisal house."

Boryslav sighed, "Then let us keep going. They probably stripped the entire area clean." They both began to walk on, Riko just about to follow before she stepped on something. She looked down, eyes widening.

"Hey!" She called out, "I found something!"

Shiggy and Boryslav turned around, returning to her to see something glinting in the grass. Boryslav reached down, picking it up.

It was a bullet casing, left behind from the time he had riddled the Crimson Splitjaw with his AK. It was a little dirty, the gilded metal faded from being exposed for so long, but the general shape still remained. He held it up, Riko looking at it with stars in her eyes. "Wow! What are those?"

"Bullet casings." Boryslav explained, pocketing the metal. He brushed the top of the grass, finding a few more. Although there could be nothing done with them as of now, he picked each one up, holding them in his hand. "There for my gun, but like this, they are useless."

"Oh. Is it because something is supposed to be inside them for the gun to shoot?" Riko asked, Shiggy staring at the casings.

"Dah." Boryslav responded, "_They catch on quickly._"

He then stood back up.

"Alright, let us go."

* * *

The destination was a collapsed ruin, hanging haphazardly off the cliffside. Perhaps at some point it was a temple of some sort, but now, the time had eroded that structure as nature made it's due. "_Nothing like venturing into an unstable place to find relics... did I ever really leave The Zone?_" Boryslav wondered, looking down at his detector.

It may have well have been a gold mine, tiny green dots appearing on the LED screen.

Needless to say, he had no complaints.

Riko turned her head, "Oh! I know a way we can find even more relics!"

Shiggy and Boryslav turned their heads to her. "How?" The latter asked.

"It's simple. There are lots of spaces that only a kid could crawl through in the temple, so to save time, you mark out the areas in the temple, and then Shiggy and I will find it while you go off to mark more!"

Shiggy nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

"... Alright. Just be careful." Boryslav then looked down before looking up, pointing at the front of the temple. "See that bush? There should be a relic inside or under it. Dig that out. I will head in first."

Shiggy and Riko nodded, producing shovels as the group walked up to the front. While the two kids worked on digging, Boryslav entered.

It was more exterior then interior, parts of the roof open as overgrown vines clung to the stone bricks. Boryslav looked around, slowly stepping inside. The temple was huge, with the other half of actually bending downward, indicating the end that was hanging off the cliffside. He then walked forward, boots stepping on ancient stone as he looked down at the Svarog detector, keeping a note on what sections seemed to contain relics.

And then he stepped in a puddle.

He looked past the detector, his eyes widening.

A red puddle.

Blood.

He looked up, spotting a body that was lying next to an opened section. It was a Delver, a blue whistle, his skin pale and throat slit. Boryslav crouched low, inspecting the corpse. "_Definitely wasn't an animal that did this... The cut would have been messier, and the body devoured._" The body was still fresh, meaning whoever had done it was still around. He noticed the boy was missing his jacket and backpack, only left with his trousers and undershirt. "_Everything valuable was taken off him as well... that must mean-_"

His thinking was cut off as Riko and Shiggy entered. "Hey, Worn! We found the-"

Boryslav was onto the child in an instant, clasping an arm over both of their mouths and quickly hiding behind a pillar. "We are not alone here..." He silently whispered. "Do you see the doorway over there?" Boryslav asked.

Shiggy and Riko nodded within his arms.

"As soon as I let go, I want you two to take off your backpacks and run back to Jiruo, as fast as you can. Tell him that there are bandits at the temple. Can you do that?"

Another nod.

"Okay." Boryslav relinquished his grip, "Now get ready to-"

A figure rounded the doorway, a tall figure in leather lamellar. His face was obscured by a pale cloth face mask, almost reminiscent of a balaclava without a mouth hole, a metal helmet with an inactive lightbulb attached to the front. His weapon seemed bizarre, a combination between an axe, a pick, and a spear. One side was the pick, one side was the axe, and the top was a pointed piece of metal. It was almost reminiscent of a Varangian Guard but adapted to ranging then guarding, The Abyss and not Constantinople.

The man spotted them, eyes widening behind his mask.

Boryslav drew his Spetsnaz machete and slashed the man's throat before he could even react, blood splattering in a straight line and staining Boryslav's jacket. The man let out a gurgling sound, falling back as he dropped his weapon and clutched his throat, landing with a noisy thump.

Shouting outside was heard.

Boryslav turned his head, the two kids absolutely stunned as he yelled out. "Back through the entrance!" He yelled before turning back to the doorway as he drew his pistol. "I will be fine, go!"

The two young kids thankfully obliged despite witnessing the brutal display, turning to run and leaving their bags behind.

He checked outside, the doorway leading to a courtyard of destroyed walls and fallen pillars. Boryslav then calculated his options. Either he stayed inside, maintaining a chock-point but not much breathing space, or he could go outside, where space was open but cover for any potential enemies would be in abundance. He quickly chose the latter.

And paid for it.

The flat end of a polearm hit his hand from behind a pillar, M1911 getting smacked out of his fingers and falling to the grass as Boryslav cursed. He then avoided the spear thrust, stepping to the side as the bandit stepped forward.

Or... wait. The woman was wearing the exact same uniform as the man before, cloth mask with exposed eyes and metal helmet but this time with the addition of goggles. She yelled out, her voice accented in an almost Scandinavian flare. "I found him! He's over here!" Common, as Boryslav learned in the orphanage, was a language that everybody spoke, even across nations. This was some organized group, and it was there that Boryslav learned that these must've been foreign Delvers.

Boryslav backed away, machete still in hand and element of surprise lost. Using a one-handed weapon against someone using a polearm, he may as well have been unarmed. And the weapon that was capable of doing any real damage, his M1911, happened to be uselessly lying on the ground, not near enough for him to rush to it in time and shoot her.

He was going to have to get creative.

Taking his heavy backpack, he threw it directly at the woman, relics spilling out into an impactful spread. She grunted, lowering her head as her helmet absorbed the impact. Yet she did not absorb the next, as Boryslav ran past her guard and delivered a powerful kick, directly into her stomach as she recoiled back into a wall. It fell apart, the woman falling back as she let out a surprised yelp before dropping further, revealing that the wall had run adjacent to the cliffside. Her screams could be heard before drowning out as she plummeted down into places unknown.

"_Guess I didn't need to follow up._" Boryslav grimly thought as he lowered his machete.

"Kari!" A voice yelled.

Boryslav swiveled his head instantly, spotting three more foreign Delvers spill into the courtyard. Two of them were uniform while the last had a vest that exposed both arms, carrying a gigantic backpack that was filled to the brim with relics and stolen Delver gear. The Porter pointed a weapon with shaky rage, Worn's eyes widening.

It was a one-handed blunderbuss.

He rolled to the right, hiding behind a fallen pillar as the weapon clicked and fired with a giant bang. A piece of stone was shredded from the top, inches away from the Stalker's head. Boryslav could already hear the other two rush forward, the sound of crushing grass growing closer.

But what they didn't realize was he had grabbed his M1911 during his roll.

Boryslav rose from cover, the Porter reloading while the two other foreign Delvers flanked him. He spotted the one who was the closest, only meters away and sprinting forward.

He fired, a splotch of blood shooting out from the man's chest.

The M1911 did what it was made to do, as the stopping power of the .45 ACP went into effect. The foreign Delver halted dead in his tracks, one leg coming to a kneel as if he had just hit a wall. He didn't have the chance to yell or scream, possibly because of the sheer trauma inflicted on the central nervous system before Boryslav fired another at his chest, finishing the job as the foreign Delver fell back into the grass.

The other flanker was already upon him, jumping over a fallen pillar and raising her polearm. Boryslav turned around bearing his gun as the woman lunged toward him, axe end raised high to the air. His senses were pinpoint, his aim careful and quick.

He shot her in the face.

The cloth mask turned a gruesome red as her body went limp, falling atop him while the polearm fell into the grass.

Boryslav was about to push the corpse off of him before realizing the Porter was preparing another shot, blunderbuss fully reloaded. He quickly reacted, bringing the corpse in front of him as the weapon clicked, firing off its payload of pellets into the body shield Boryslav was utilizing. It was like a light shove, Boryslav letting out a grunt as he stepped back before bringing his pistol to bear, the Porter trying to run into cover.

He shot the man in the shoulder, the Porter spinning before falling to the grass, dropping his weapon. Boryslav shoved the body away and moved forward, M1911 still trained on the man. The Porter simply laid there, hand clutched onto his shoulder as he let out a soundless grunt.

"I... You..." The Porter attempted to speak.

Boryslav silently put away his pistol, bringing out his machete instead. He didn't want to waste ammo after all...

"What are you?" The man finally asked.

The Stalker paused for a moment before raising the survival blade, Delver hat casting a shadow over his face as he bought the weapon down.

* * *

"This way, quickly!" Jiruo yelled, holding a pickaxe.

He was followed by a mob of other Delvers, each brandishing a weapon. An exhausted Riko and Shiggy had told him everything, that Foreign Delvers were in the Leaning Ruins, and that Boryslav had stayed behind to fend them off.

So the moon whistle had assembled a party as quick as he can, a random assemblage of blue, moons, and a few black whistles. Even the Sentinel had joined them, silently holding a powder spear as they approached the ruins. It wasn't hard rallying the crowd, as there was a distinct hatred that was held for Foreign Delvers...

But at least half of those fears were put away upon spotting Boryslav sitting at the entrance, casually leaning his head back against a vine ridden pillar.

"Worn?!" Jiruo called.

The red whistle looked up, waving as he stood up. "Ah! You have arrived. I was waiting."

Jiruo came up to him, the mob looking around to inspect the ruins. "W-We came as fast as we could. Where are the Foreign Delvers?"

It was then that the moon whistle noticed that the jacket Boryslav wore wasn't originally red...

"Dead." Boryslav answered, gesturing a thumb behind him. "You can check in the courtyard. Just mind the dead Delver at the entrance. Not my work, just one of their victims."

The Stalker then stood up, walking past Jiruo as he tapped the moon whistle on the shoulder.

"This better get me that damn blue whistle."

* * *

"Woooorn!" Riko cried, "We were so worried about you!"

It was the usual suspects upon his return to the orphanage, Riko already a bawling mess. Nat was there too, Boryslav assuming the boy had been filled in on what transpired.

"We're so glad you're okay!"

"Yeah." Shiggy agreed, "It was scary. Just how did you manage to fight them all off? It had to be a whole group."

Boryslav shrugged, "I have dealt with worse odds before. But the important thing is I got something out of it." Boryslav finished, producing something from his pocket.

A blue whistle.

"Is that-?" Nat asked, eyes wide.

"A blue whistle! You got a blue whistle!?" Riko asked, eyes shining as Boryslav held it up.

"Dah. Jiruo took me to pick it up from the Delvers guild on the way here." The Stalker explained, "Fastest promotion of my life. Heh." He then pocketed the whistle, looking back to see their saddened faces, knowing what this would entail to. Boryslav would go on to delve the lower layers, while the kids stayed at the 1st. He sighed, kneeling down to their level as Riko came up to him, tears in her eyes.

"Do you have to go Worn...?"

"Yes. I will visit you from time to time." They looked down, a moment passing before Boryslav decided on something. Fishing into one of his pockets, he produced three coins, 15 rubles in total. "Here, take these." He then handed one each to the trio, "It is currency, used in The Zone. It may not buy much here, but it'll be something to remember me by..." Boryslav slowly stood back up. "I best be going now. Goodbye, Children."

Shiggy and Nat looked up from their respective coins, smiles on their faces. "See you, Worn!"

"Yeah, see ya!" Nat agreed, Riko sobbing.

"S-See y-you..."

Nat turned his head, "Hey, what're you crying for? He said he'd visit."

"I-I know." Riko said, wiping away tears.

Boryslav smiled, giving a small wave before turning to leave the courtyard. Jiruo was waiting for him at the gates, as was Belchero. Boryslav came up to the former first, "Goodbye, Belchero. Do not string up children naked anymore, Dah?"

"Do not tell me how to serve punishment, Mr. Shevchenko." Belchero spoke in a deadpan fashion.

"..." Boryslav paused, "I thought Nat was joking when he said that you did. I-... I do not know how to feel about that..." The Stalker then shrugged before he opened his arms and pulled her into a hug, Belchero staring forward with wide eyes as Boryslav pulled away to look her in the face, "I guess that is beside the point. You may not think it, and maybe most the children do not either... but you are a good person, Belchero. So try not to be a hardass all the time, Dah?"

Belcerho stuttered, face flustered as Boryslav turned away to shake Jiruo's hand.

"And as for you. Keep up the good work. I will sleep well knowing your teaching will better their chances."

Jiruo looked distant for a moment before he nodded, a rare smile gracing his face. "I will try my best."

Boryslav nodded, patting him on the shoulder before turning to wave goodbye. In addition to the trio, the entirety of the orphanage was waving, shouting out their respective goodbyes as Kiyu gave a tired wave.

And without a further moment, Boryslav left.

* * *

**Made in Abyss OST - Tomorrow**

* * *

"Three rounds left..." Boryslav murmured, looking into one of the magazines of his M1911. That put him at a total of 17 rounds of .45 ACP. Not great, not terrible. Everything else was packed, including the activated charcoal for filter refurbishment, now all that was left was to-

A knock on the door.

Boryslav turned his head, "Come in."

Taro peaked through. "You ready?"

He placed the magazine in his backpack, heaving it over his shoulders, his Sunrise Suit finally refitted. He slung his AK-74 over his shoulder as he pulled the hood over his head. "Dah. Let us go."

They went downstairs, Orla waiting by the doorway. She noticed their approach, opening the door as the three went outside.

The sun steadily rose over the crest around Orth, orange light splaying over the city with the exception of The Abyss in the distance. The townsfolk were already up and about, beginning their daily routines. A few stopped upon seeing Boryslav, pausing for a brief moment, and then continuing on.

That seemed like progress, a far cry from the unfiltered staring he was met with when Boryslav had first begun to live in Orth.

Taro walked up alongside him, Orla in tow. "I don't know if you notice, but everybody is now talking about you."

Boryslav tilted his head, "Really?"

The old man nodded, "It's not every day a foreigner becomes a Delver, and it's not even a considered possibility that said foreigner would already become a blue whistle right after his first delve."

Orla nodded as well. "M-Me and the kids down by the well were talking about it as well. They were asking me so many questions about you..."

He chuckled in response, yet did not say anything.

Finally, they arrived at their destination.

It was a platform that spanned out past the edge, almost like a suspended pier. Yet, even so, the structure may as well have been a toothpick, just barely poking into the flesh that was the giant hole of the Abyss. This was the Elevator Bridge, where Delvers could take a lift to certain parts of the 1st and the beginning of the 2nd. Boryslav was heading to the latter, as they passed a few operators.

They approached one of the elevators, a stylized metal gondola that hung above the long drop below, a gigantic contraption above it to lower it down. _"... Looks like a damn death_ trap..." Boryslav silently thought before shrugging, _"Then again, I've thrown myself into_ worse..." A moon whistle approached the trio, holding a clipboard in her hands.

"Name?" She asked, eyes focused on the paper.

Boryslav and Taro looked at each other before the former stepped forward. "Boryslav Shevchenko."

The woman looked up from the clipboard, eyes lighting up with recognition. It seemed she too knew of his reputation by this point. The purple whistle handed the clipboard, producing a pencil as well. "Alright then, just sign your name right here."

He nodded, taking it from her hands and picking up the pencil, quickly scribbling his name at the bottom as she asked a question.

"Are you in a group or...?"

"Niet. Just me." Boryslav responded, handing the clipboard back.

"Understood." She took it, holding it in her elbow. "You're clear to proceed. Good luck."

"Спасибі." He turned around, facing Taro and Orla. A few seconds passed, not a single word being spoken before Taro simply shrugged.

"... I guess this is it." Taro looked at the elevator, "It's crazy to think how it went from an alleyway to this."

Boryslav chuckled, "Life has a strange way of happening."

Orla came up to him, looking up at Boryslav. "S-Stay safe, Uncle Worn. It's really dangerous in the 2nd layer."

He knelt, smiling down at her. "I know. But it will be worth it if I can bring you back a souvenir. What would you like? A relic?"

"You coming back..." Orla responded.

Boryslav smiled before gently hugging her, "I can do that. I will be back in about 3 week-"

Taro cut him off, "That's usually the first mistake of any Delver, assuming they'll return at a certain time. Call this the insane ramblings of an old man, but I swear to you, time runs differently down there."

"Dah, I read something about that in your notebook." Boryslav said, standing up. "I will have to see that for myself."

There was a short pause before Taro opened his arms, the Stalker embracing the Old Man. "Be careful down there Boryslav. It's dangerous to go alone."

"Sounds to me you are growing soft-"

"No, I mean it." Taro then split off, Boryslav realizing that there were tears in the man's eyes. "I have lost so much. My wealth, my daughter... my son... you and Orla are all I have left."

Boryslav paused, a few seconds passed as the atmosphere seemed to grow cold, the hood of the sunrise suit casting a dark and thick shadow over Boryslav's face. Taro froze up, realizing this presence was not dissimilar to the time he had witnessed Worn brutally beat a couple of muggers...

Or perhaps... a more distant memory, when he himself just a blue whistle who witnessed Wakuna, The Lord of Guidance and a genuine one of a kind white whistle up close. That simple knowing that the humanoid in front of you had lost some semblance of their humanity at some point.

The Stalker spoke.

"I have faced much worse. This hellhole will fail-"

Boryslav then looked up, a faded yet smiling face that produced a foreign warmth to it, features that told a story of many hardships in life... yet many victories too. A face that promised the viewer that everything would be okay. It was there Taro truly understood why Boryslav had the nickname 'Worn'.

"-because I will be coming back to repay you."

Taro slowly smiled, wiping away the tears from his face. "Alright then. Get yer ass going. No one's ever found relics by sitting on their asses."

Boryslav nodded, clambering into the lift as the gate behind him automatically closed. The Stalker turned around to face the two, machine churning as the lift became active. With a bump, the descent began, lift progressing downward.

He looked up one last time, noticing Taro and Orla looking down at him.

And just before he disappeared beyond the clouds, he lifted his arm to give a thumbs up, arm sinking into nothingness.

Taro and Orla continued watched, the former whispering a prayer.

"Good Luck, Worn... May you find worth in The Abyss."

* * *

Translations

блядь - Blyad - Fuck

Яблуко від яблуньки не далеко - Yabluko vid yablunʹky ne daleko - The apple from the apple tree is not far away.

Спасибі - Spasybi - Thanks

* * *

**Holee fuck. I gotta say, I loved writing the fight scene, but as for coming up with the context behind said fight scene? Not so much. The fact that there's not much else detailed about the world outside Orth except maybe a few names or places is kind of a double-edged blade. On one end, I can come up with stuff and be quite free doing so, and on the other, is having to come up with it. EEeeeEEERRGH, imagination!**

**Anyhow, sorry for the long wait. I'll be honest, I'm probably going to update the chapter of my other story first before the next. But on the bright side, I think I've now fully laid out the plan for this story**

**Next Chapter - The Forest of Temptation**

**I'm also introducing Extras at the end of every chapter. Maybe not every chapter, but chapters where I want to add a little extra depth to the story, or scenes that I wasn't sure where to put in order to preserve the flow.**

**Consider these Canon.**

**Extra - The Praying Skeleton:**

Boryslav stared down at the molded remains within the small cave, its arms clasped together as its head rested against the dirt floor. Remnants and scraps of ancient clothes could be seen on the skeletal body as Shiggy and Riko stared down with him.

"One of your Delvers?" Boryslav asked.

Riko shook her head as Shiggy spoke up.

"Praying Skeleton. They're the ones who came before us, 2000 years ago."

Boryslav was intrigued, "What do you mean?"

"Well..." Shiggy looked up in thought, "If you go down into the Abyss, you'll find leftover structures and ruins. The 1st layer even has a burial tower where you'll find a whole tomb of skeletons that are 4000 years old, and below that tomb is a tomb that is 6000 years old. And it keeps going on..."

"It's really scary!" Riko emphasized. "And they're all in the exact same position as this one. That's why we call them Praying Skeletons."

"Yes... and rumors had it that we're getting close to the next 2000 years." Shiggy then shrugged, a smile on his face. "But it's all just a rumor. The best we can do is offer a grab that relic and offer a quick prayer before getting back on our way."

Boryslav paused for a few moments, reaching forward to grasp the relic before standing between the two kids.

"Sorry for disturbing you." Riko and Shiggy whispered simultaneously, Boryslav remaining silent. He was no stranger to bodies, but the context behind it... It slightly disturbed him, which was saying something for a man of his caliber. He never was one for superstition, but repetition was often an indicator of truth. Just what would happen when that time was up?

And there was also the fact that...

"-_All she could do was pray._"

Hopefully, Taro only meant that figuratively.


	6. The Forest of Temptation

Boryslav silently slipped on his gas mask, breathing calmly.

The cloud was still thick as the lift progressed downward. He took the time to make one last checkup, looking into his magazines and rechecking his emergency strap. Everything seemed green. Another minute passed, the fog finally dissipating as Boryslav spotted the ground below. The elevator rapidly approached before settling down, rumbling as Boryslav held tight. Finally, it stopped, indicating that it was now settled.

He opened the cage door, walking out of it before tapping a small button on the outside to send it back up. There was a pause, before it stirred back to life, disappearing into the clouds above.

Boryslav turned back around, breathing comfortably behind his filters. In all honesty, he knew the chances of encountering poison clouds or even less likely, radioactive zones, was incredibly slim, but he was too used to wearing his gas mask. Oddly enough... it almost felt as if his senses were extended rather than prohibited. Just another byproduct of the environment he had to survive in.

Looking around, his tunnel vision allowed him to inspect the rocky crags that surrounded him. Here, he felt almost trapped, easy prey for an ambush. With that in mind, he picked up the pace by just a little. It wasn't until he encountered the first cliffside that he had to come to a stop. He reached into his backpack, producing one of the basic requirements for a Delver.

Rope.

Finding a secured piece of rock, he tied the rope around it, clipping a carabiner that was attached to his Sunrise suit to ensure he would lose his grip. With that setup, he descended downward. Training as a Blue Beret, and the mountainous terrain of Afghanistan had prepared him for this, allowing him to traverse with ease.

Upon reaching the button, he unclipped himself, noticing that he had stepped on moss. They were moss-covered roots that he was walking on, giant ones that were the size of buildings. He then looked up, realizing they spanned on for miles, with trees and other giant flora growing off them. Rain could be seen in the distance, pouring down from the unnatural clouds above as the tree line stopped short of the gaping hole.

This was The Forest of Temptation.

And for a moment, he felt like a Young Pioneer again, back when his world was so young... and simple.

Yet he put his guard back up like a concrete wall, his perception going to work. Creatures flew in the distance, mere dots from where he stood, fluttering atop the center of the Abyss. He was definitely going to have to keep an eye out in case one of those dots became bigger...

With those thoughts in mind, he continued his journey, only stopping to occasionally rest from time to time. Boryslav was used to long bouts of walking, making good time through the forest. Pretty soon, even his own scenery began to change, gigantic leaf-like trees forming a protective canopy over him. It was upon reaching this section that Boryslav decided to rest, having already scaled one-third of the 2nd Layer.

Boryslav sat down to rest atop a log, noticing a few small animals running across the grass.

* * *

_"And when your down in the forest, you should try hunting for some of these." Taro pointed out, "Scurryfeet. Really nimble but delicious."_

_Boryslav peered at the picture, "Is there anything bigger that I can hunt? With more fat possibly?"_

_"Why?" Taro asked._

_"My father once told me a story, about what it was like fighting in sub-zero temperatures. One of the most haunting stories he told me were the soldiers that died because they hunted nothing but rabbit, an animal similar to this. By all means, they were well-fed... and yet they starved." _

_Taro seemed intrigued, "Really? How was that so?"_

_"We call it rabbit starvation. You end up burning more energy skinning and digesting it, losing more than you gain." Boryslav explained. "That is why, on long trips like these, you should avoid gamey meats."_

_"Huh... I guess that explains that one time." Taro seemed haunted. "When my group found a dead Delver who had clearly been poisoned by drinking lantern oil... I thought he did it to kill himself."_

_"Your body tries to seek out fats when it is on low supply. He must have reasoned that there were traces of whale blubber in that oil." Boryslav shook his head. "Poor bastard."_

* * *

He turned his gaze away, noticing a faint trace of movement. The Stalker peered closer, noticing a strange-looking quadruped, it's legs like wooden sticks and body almost covered with leaves. However, a green deer-like head stuck out from the end of it's camouflaged body, feasting on the bark of what was called an Amagiri tree, an almost plant-like tree that consisted of a giant leaf on top.

Boryslav stared at the small herd of 'Leavidae', what were essentially camouflaged deer, pausing for a few moments. He finally decided that one of these creatures would be his next meal.

Of course, it would have been easy to simply shoot one of these creatures and take it down, seeing as they had not noticed his presence... but he quickly put down that idea due to two reasons. One was the most obvious, that being that he was trying to conserve ammo, so using it on an animal that was posed no threat would be a clear waste. And the other...

Well, it was very unhuntsman-like, using anything that was more lethal than his Father's old Mosin Nagant. Of course, that rule was null in The Zone... but here, with some animals actually being very similar and passive like their Earth counterparts, it had at least gotten him to brainstorm even more on how he would accomplish a hunt without even using a gun.

He watched them eat upon the Amagiri trees, biting away the trunk to feast upon the sweet sap within it.

An idea came to him.

Slowly standing up, he rotated until he felt the wind blowing on both ears, getting a general sense that it was coming from the north. Noting this info, he walked to a nearby tree that was perpendicular to the breeze, making sure it wasn't downwind from where the Leavidae would be coming from. He grabbed his machete and cut a giant gash into it, a fresh stream of sap pouring out as Boryslav quickly sat close to it, ensuring to cover himself with ample amounts of dirt and leaves. For a moment, he considered covering himself with the sap as well, yet he decided it wasn't worth it, as the mass of insects swarming the sweet source was ample discouragement.

And then he waited.

Hunting was all about patience.

Boryslav was a very patient man depending on the situation.

Slowly, the Leavidae approached, sniffing the air and lifting their heads every few seconds. It took about a few minutes before they finally arrived, lapping at the substance. Noticeably, they didn't seem as cautious as deer, one of them even sniffing the sap on the squarish edge of his machete. Unfortunately, and fortunately for Boryslav, that one also happened to now be the closest.

He immediately shot his arm forward, grabbing it by the antler as it let out a surprised yeep, the rest of them bolting. Boryslav took his machete by the blade and quickly pushed the end against its neck. That did the trick, its throat now slit as it weakly struggled, life leaving its body before slumping.

Not bad for his third time hunting without a gun...

The Stalker picked it up by the legs, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was around the same size of a large dog, but its body seemed to have plenty of fat and meat on it. Hauling it back to the log he sat on, he went to work, using his knife to skin the pelt off. Pretty soon, the mossy camouflage and fur gave way to the bare flesh, Boryslav already working to clean out its insides.

"_It really is not that different from a deer._" He inwardly commented, cutting at its thighs. He held the now disembodied leg up, inspecting it for a brief moment to figure out what he would do with it.

And then he heard something rustle.

He was still for a moment, propping the leg down against the log before brandishing his AK that hung from his shoulder, lifting it toward the bushes. He remained silent, waiting for whatever creature that had possibly picked up the fresh scent of dead Leavidae

A hat poked out, Boryslav instantly recognizing the shape to be that of a Delver's cap. Finally, the figure stepped out, sporting a look that spoke of sleep loss, heavy bags underneath his eyes, and a nonchalant look on his face as a black whistle hanged around his neck.

"Didn't expect to find another Delver up here. You alone?" The man asked.

The Stalker's eyes picked up the distant glare of a scope from atop one of the leafy trees in the distance, as well as a stir a movement from the same bush the man had stepped out of.

He was being watched by two other assailants.

Boryslav finally understanding what was happening, the ambush already prepared. "_Damn it. Even with the whistle, they think I'm an illegal Delver._" He supposed it was reasonable to believe, seeing as he didn't dress up like the typical Orthian Delver... or speak like one for that matter. "_This is a dangerous misunderstanding._"

Although Boryslav was confident that he would've been able to come out on top... killing fellow Delvers was the last thing he wanted to have happened.

"Dah, I am. I finished my first Delve as a red whistle."

"Really?" The man seemed to analyze Boryslav for a brief moment. "Who recommended you?" The tired-looking Delver asked, "And don't try to lie. I know every purple and black whistle in Orth right now."

"... A black whistle named Taro. He owns a house in the east district."

The Delver's tired eyes widened, "Then you must be the foreigner who was training to become a Delver." He seemed to relax. "Heard some news that you went straight from red to a blue recently."

"Dah." Boryslav simply answered, gun still trained. "Now tell the other two who are watching me to come out. I do not enjoy being watched by those who are hiding."

He seemed surprised that Boryslav knew, waving his hand to signal the treetop Delver in distance before turning to the bushes. "Yelme!" He called, the bushes stirring as a green-haired boy, Boryslav noting as 'Yelme', stood up with a pickaxe in his hands, signature Delver hat atop his head and giant backpack on his back.

Yelme walked closer, head turned toward the tired-looking Delver.

"You sure we can trust him Simred? He could have just taken that blue whistle off a body."

The tired one, now confirmed to be Simred, shook his head. "Not really. I'm just trusting the words of the Delvers who told me the news."

Boryslav narrowed his eyes behind his gasmask. "I am standing right here, Мудак." He finally lowered his rifle, "And you should be the last to talk about trust. You were clearly planning to ambush me."

Simred put up his hands, gesturing to calm. "Alright, alright. Sorry." He then scrunched his face, "What the hell is a Mudak?"

Boryslav said nothing, now convinced that he was no longer under threat. He holstered his rifle as he turned around to the Leavidae, going back to work as he cut it up. Simred and Yelme slowly approach, as well as another set of footsteps. The Stalker looked up to see the third member approach, the one responsible for the distant glare. It was an old man with a white choppy beard, with naturally wide eyes that seemed to be on constant alert and a pair of optical goggles resting on his forehead. A long arbalest was held in his hands, possibly for sniping.

"Hm." The old man stared at the butchered creature with an almost owl-like gaze. "A Leavidae. Tricky to hunt cause of their great senses. How d'you manage?"

"Lured it." Boryslav simply responded as he looked back up, pointing at one of the giant leaf trees. "I noticed they ate nectar that came from the bark. So I sat still next to an open seam..." He then went back to cutting. "Good senses do not always mean good instinct."

"... I suppose you're right." The bearded Delver paused for a moment, hiding away the crossbow beneath his long cloak. "My name is Zapo, and those other two are-"

"Yelme and Simred. I heard." Boryslav finished, "Are you three in a group?"

Simred nodded, "Kinda... we're on patrol, keeping a lookout for relics and Foreign Delvers." He then shrugged, "Though, I'm really not sure where to place you..."

Boryslav grunted, feeling slightly insulted as he held his whistle out. "Well, I like to think that I am one of you now, seeing as I earned this whistle." He then let it rest against his chest.

There was a pause, Zapo sensing the tension in the air as the old Delver sighed, stepping in. "Perhaps we got off to the wrong foot here, Sir...-"

The Stalker took a moment to answer. "... I am known as Worn."

"Worn..." Zapo seemed to wonder for a moment, "Strange name."

Yelme turning his attention to the butchered Leavidae. "Seems like you know your way around cutting it up..."

"Yeah." Boryslav spoke before he shrugged, "But I am still deciding how to cook it."

He then looked up, finally deciding to extend an olive branch as he took off his mask, revealing his chiseled yet worn features, dull blue eyes staring directly at the now surprised group of Delvers.

"You three have any ideas?"

* * *

Boryslav was definitely not the type to shun any possibility to learn.

He had pride, of course, but he was also smart. After all, those that rejected advice in The Zone tended to end up dead very quickly, so the Abyss was probably no different. They quickly set up a fire, hanging a crockpot with filled water over it as the sun slowly set.

For tonight's dinner, Leafidae stew.

Boryslav watched carefully as they cooked it, taking note of the color of the broth. Traditional venison stew and Ukrainian Borsch, were each meaty and sour respectively. But Leafidae stew was different as it was more vegetable-based, and surprisingly, utilized the literal herbs that were scraped from its hide.

Yelme finished dumping the ingredients into the crockpot, putting a lid over it.

"And now we wait..."

Boryslav nodded, sitting down on the log as Simred joined him, bringing out a small pipe. "So, what's your deal, Worn?" He lit the end of it, taking a quick puff. "Why'd you become a Delver?"

The Stalker shrugged, "Money..." He paused, "And the fact that I just love putting my ass in danger."

"I can't tell if that's sarcasm or the truth."

"Perhaps." He then turned his head, "What about you?"

Simred paused before looking away, "Oh, you know how it goes... A young boy wants to become a Delver-"

Already, Boryslav could tell something was up, as Simred seemed too playful with his own story

It was a common stereotype that most Stalkers were anti-social, preferring to shy away from social situations. However, and truthfully, Stalkers had an on and off switch when it came to socialization out in the Zone. When cautious, most Stalkers were hardasses, or at the very least, not too open to conversation. However, when comfy and sat down around a fire...

The average Stalker was no better, and possibly, less mature than a child. Thankfully, Boryslav was one of the more refined ones, at least refined in the sense that he knew a way around taking the piss out and get the info he wanted.

"Wait, hold on-" Boryslav looked to the side and spat, he then turned back. "Sorry, but I do not like the taste of bullshit."

Simred blinked, "Wha- how did you know I was lying?"

The Delver had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

Boryslav smirked.

"You just told me."

There was a short pause before Yelme and Zapo burst out into laughter, the former giggling and the latter chortling as Simred seemed embarrassed. "Damn, fine, you got me... felled by the oldest trick in the book." He then leaned back, "I... used to get into a lot of shady business back in Orth, and ended up conning the wrong person. Got myself into a lot of debt and figured throwing myself into the mercy of the Abyss was the best way to escape it."

Boryslav raised an eye, "And they allowed you to become a Delver?"

"Not they." Simred said with a smirk, "She. Ozen, the white whistle. She's the leader of our group, the Subterranean Bandits."

The Stalker had heard that name before. It was a name that was held with great acclaim back in Orth. Even Taro had mentioned it, yet spoke it with a form of reverence. Boryslav was yet to meet one of these white whistles, but even he could already tell...

This Ozen was a legendary person, not too dissimilar like the Doctor, or hell, even the Marked One himself.

However, the name of the group admittedly caught him off guard, the mention of bandits stroking something familiar within his memory of all of his time within the Garbage back in The Zone. "You are bandits?"

"Not in the criminal sense. Our main objective working under Ozen is to hunt down Foreign Delvers and reclaim any relics they might've taken."

Boryslav nodded, "'I see..." He then paused, "And where is Ozen? She is the leader of your group, Dah?"

"At the Seeker Camp in the Inverted Forest, our base of operations. Every Delver- I mean, every 'legal' Delver visits it before descending further down." Simred explained. "Otherwise, they avoid it, and that's where we come in."

"_Just like Duty._" The Stalker silently thought, already comparing the small group to the paramilitary faction. But perhaps that was an unfair assessment, seeing as Duty tended to be 'anti-everything' if it involved matters regarding the Zone. The Subterranean Hunter's seemed to be more focused on targeting bandits and grabbing relics.

His musings were cut off as Yelme opened the lid, "Food's ready!"

Boryslav was immediately handed a bowl of the green broth, the Ukrainian looking closely at it as he grabbed a quick whiff.

It smelled delicious.

Taking up a spoon, he began digging in, vocalizing the deliciousness of the taste. "Mmm, this is good!" He then looked up from the bowl, "You people sure know how to cook."

Zapo nodded, "Indeed. There's a saying that the Abyss is not only home to Relics, but also many culinary recipes."

Yelme turned his head to the hung up meat. "Yeah... but too bad there's still a little bit of leftover meat. I'm not sure how we're gonna dry it. I guess we'll have to throw it out."

Boryslav took another spoonful before bringing the entire bowl to his mouth, gulping it down and bringing it back, his bowl already empty as the group stared at him, wide-eyed. He then stood up, walking up to the log before producing his machete, shaving long pieces of bark off. Once he had collected about 8 long pieces, he returned to the fire, placing them in a circle and allowing the tops to lean against each other, much like a tipi. Finally, he grabbed the sticks of meat and placing them over the fire, resting them inside the enclosed space.

"Oh, I see!" Zapo exclaimed, "You've made a small smokehouse."

"Dah." Boryslav confirmed, "The meat should be dry tomorrow if the fire is kept." He then turned to the three Delvers. "I will take watch. You three may rest."

"You sure?" Yelme asked.

The Stalker nodded, "I am used to it."

Yelme shrugged, sitting on his sleeping bag as the other two Delvers did the same. Gone was the suspicion of their first meeting, Boryslav grateful that now they had trusted him enough that he would watch over them.

And really, for a thing like him, that was all he could ask for.

* * *

Simred slowly awoke, stirring atop his sleeping bag. He rose up, yawning as he stretched his arms.

He looked around at the rest of the Subterranean Bandits before noticing that an obvious person was missing.

Worn.

The Delver stood up, peering around before realizing that the strangely outfitted Delver was sitting atop the log, body turned away. Simred slowly walked forward, a smirk on his face. "You still awake-?"

He then froze up, his legs refusing to move on instinct.

"_W-What the-_" Simred felt sweat began to bead down his forehead, "_This feeling..._"

And then Worn slowly turned his head, shadows clinging to the edges of his hood. Simred's eyes widened, a feeling of unknown malice washing over him.

Boryslav simply stared at him, a piece of dried Leavidae in his mouth. "Hm?" He then ate it quickly. "Dah, I am." Simred paused for a second, Boryslav standing up and holding his strange weapon.

"... Oh." Simred simply responded, Boryslav nodding as he returned to his vigil. The Delver turned around, blinking. "_What the hell was that just now?_" He then calmed down, Yelme and Zapo now waking up. "_Maybe it was just my imagination... but for a moment_ there..."

He turned back towards the seated foreigner, Worn looking over the clearing.

"_I could've sworn that I was standing behind a body._"

* * *

Boryslav leaned against the side of an Amagiri tree, the Subterranean Bandits finishing their packing as he watched.

"So where will you three go now?" Boryslav asked, Zapo lifting his head.

"To the outskirts of the forest, and turn back. Our patrolling is mostly limited in the 3rd and 2nd layers."

He nodded in understanding, "Then you must be doing too damn good of a job." Boryslav lifted his blue whistle, "I earned this by killing a few illegal Delvers in the 1st."

Zapo's eyes widened, "Truly?"

Yelme turned his head to Simred. "Sounds like the Foreign Delvers and getting braver." The young Delver then paused, "Er, no offense to you, Worn."

"It is alright." He then adjusted his backpack, putting his gas mask back on as he turned his head to the group. "Hopefully, we will see each other again before I reach this 'Seeker Camp'."

Simred crossed his arms, "If we do, that means you really need to pick up the pace."

Boryslav chuckled behind his mask before speaking a Russian proverb he had learned. "Ти́ше е́дешь — да́льше бу́дешь"

"What's that supposed to mean?" The Delver asked.

"Ride slower, you will get further. I would rather be steady and cautious then swift and dead."

Zapo nodded in agreement, "Indeed."

They parted ways, Boryslav continuing his journey downward and the Subterranean Bandits continuing their objective upward. It had been an... enlightening experience for Boryslav, a good look at what to expect from his fellow Delvers once he overcame the gap of suspicion. In all honesty, it was a similar feeling, similar to sitting down with a few other Loners, sharing a fire, drinking Vodka, and listening to songs if one had a guitar.

He trecked on, focusing back onto the environment around him. He had not forgotten the clear dangers that had lurked in the forest. That sense of being on edge was a permanent part of his psyche thanks to The Zone. Boryslav stopped for a moment, inspecting the sprouts as he recalled Taro's advice.

"_Just remember, if you're ever lost, just check the sprouts of the Amagiri trees. Their leaves always point toward the center of the Abyss._"

Boryslav kept that in mind, continuing in the right direction.

After a few hours of traversing and walking, he heard a distant call, Boryslav raising his head to the wind.

"Stop, stop!" There was a pause before it was heard again, "Stop, stop!"

_"Who's shouting that?_" Boryslav thought, quickening his pace only to slow down. "_W__ait... something's not right._" The call was heard again, repeating the same words again. "_Why does the poor bastard keep repeating the same thing over and over again. You'd think if he was fearing for his life, he'd be yelling all sorts of things._"

Suspicion quickly took hold as Boryslav came to a stop, voice still calling as he thought for a moment.

Taro's words spoke the loudest.

* * *

_Boryslav silently read atop the dining table, Taro and Orla sitting as they finished breakfast._

_"... Corpse Weeper?" Boryslav asked, noticing the giant quills and three eyes on its head, the lack of a beak showing off powerful tongue muscles... almost similar to that of a- "Bloodsucker." Boryslav finished his thought, Taro perking up._

_"Hm?"_

_Boryslav looked up from the Delver's journal. "Just thinking how much this thing reminds me of a creature from The Zone."_

_"Oh?" Taro seemed intrigued, Orla listening intently. "Do tell. A name like Bloodsucker sounds quite dangerous."_

_"That is an understatement." Boryslav said with a sigh, "Their skin is ugly and as tough as boiled leather. They run like us, on two legs, and have claws that cut through armor like butter. But that is not what makes them a Stalkers worst nightmare."_

_Orla blinked, perhaps unable to comprehend something that would rattle the veteran Stalker. "Really? W-What is it?"_

_"Optic Camouflage. They can turn almost completely invisible."_

_Taro's eyes widened, "Truly?!"_

_Boryslav nodded, "You will never see them coming when they attack, and when they do-" He put the palm of his hand in front of his mouth, opening his fingers to paint an image within their minds. "That is where their mouth tentacles come in, wrapping your neck and sucking you dry of everything." Boryslav then shook his head, rubbing the hand against his own neck._

_He then shrugged, looking back down and ignoring the looks they gave him. "Anyways, that is all in the past now. What does a Corpse Weeper do? Does it have something to do with sound?"  
_

_"You'd be correct." Taro answered, "Corpse Weepers mimic the dying cries of their prey. That's how they lure social creatures, like Hammerbeaks... or Humans."_

_Boryslav raised an eye, "Huh..." The ugly face of a Controller was the first thing Boryslav thought of, knowing the type of manipulation the two creatures shared. "Guess I'll keep that in mind."_

* * *

Which he did.

Turning to an Amagiri tree, he climbed up, holding out his binoculars as he wrapped a leg around its trunk, trying to peer through the thick foliage. Sure enough, a giant feathery shape could be seen, with soft white feathers and its head slouched low as it feasted on a-

"Fucking knew it..." Boryslav muttered to himself, the giant avian creature lifting its head up from the Delver's opened up corpse, its tongues calling out.

"Stop, stop!"

Boryslav had seen enough, climbing back down the tree as he detoured away from the source, making a large circle around the creature. He felt sorry for the poor bastard... but satisfied as well, knowing that he had avoided the same fate due to his careful thinking.

* * *

It was midday by the time he arrived at the edge of the hole after traversing a steep dirt slope.

The Inverted Forest had lived up to its name, Boryslav peering down at the drifting clouds below as he stepped on a giant branch, realizing that it was a tree... an upside-down tree hanging from an overlapping root. Waterfalls were carried away by the buffeting winds, giving the appearance as if they were falling upsidedown. The climate had suddenly changed from subtropical to a cold continental, not too dissimilar to a night in Ukrainian autumn. Boryslav was glad that the rubberized fabric of his Sunrise suit kept him warm, feeling the chilly wind behind his gas mask as he smiled.

"Ha..." And then Boryslav began to laugh, holding out his arms as he took in the sight. "Ha, ha! Изумительный!"

Truthfully, it was amazing. Boryslav instantly knew he would be the only one from his world to ever see such a sight, not any explorer, traveler, hell, even Stalker. Taking out his PDA, he held it up, looking directly at the lens as he caught the entire background behind him. He took a photo, looking down to check the results before hearing a branch snap.

He immediately reacted, PDA in his pocket and rifle ready, scanning behind his gas mask. Boryslav quickly realized the source, glowing red circles staring from the trees around him. "_Fuck! This is what happens when I let my goddamn guard down!_" Boryslav silently cursed himself.

The peering animals looked to be similar to gibbons except incredibly intimidating, with long arms and freakishly long hands that seemed to taper away from each other, ending with two more fingers. Dark fur covered their bodies, and even their faces, their red lens like eyes simply stared at him, watching.

"_Inbyos._" Boryslav recalled, "_Not good. They're incredibly territorial._"

And as if to confirm that point, they began to screech and shout before throwing things at him. Sticks, pieces of bark, anything that could be picked up from amongst the trees as Boryslav quickly reacted, holding an arm up in front of his gas mask and turning away ever so slightly, the ballistic fibers of the Sunrise suit absorbing the impacts. The biggest of them seemed to run out of patience, slamming its long arms against the branch it stood upon. A common sign of aggression amongst primates as it leaped toward him, arms overhead.

Boryslav quickly raised his AK.

* * *

Marulk flinched as he dropped his spoon, wooden utensil landing atop the table.

"M-Master, did you hear that?" He asked, looking out the window of the Seeker Camp. "It sounded like a musket shot. Do you think it could have been a foreign delver?"

The imposing figure sitting across the boy simply paused for a moment before continuing to eat.

* * *

A loud bang echoed across the Inverted Forest, the Inbyo's body had jerked by the chest, falling down into The Abyss as it screeched. That seemed to buy him time as the pelting stopped, the rest of the Inbyos now startled from the sound as they momentarily backed off.

"_Now's my chance!_" Boryslav quickly clambered atop the branches of a nearby tree before climbing up its trunk. He wasn't a rock climber, but he didn't have to be, sticks and grooves in the wood providing natural grips as he reached the top of the roots. He then ran, balancing atop the roots as he held his AK-74 by the handguard and using his free left hand to cover the back of his hood, protecting himself from any more potential peltings. After passing a few trees, he finally stopped, turning around.

The Inbyos had ceased chasing, watching him with their red eyes before finally giving up, turning back the way they came.

Boryslav had finally exited their territory.

He let out a tired sigh behind his gas mask. "_That could have been very dangerous._" He then carried on his way, climbing up a few roots and using the trees as a way of traversing.

* * *

"Ah, Master. I see someone!" Marulk announced. "It looks to be a blue whistle... but I've never seen him before-"

The figure pushed Marulk to the side and slowly leaned forward to peer through the telescope. They then leaned back, turning around wordlessly and leaving the room.

Marulk gulped.

* * *

The light in the inverted was beginning to turn a fruity red, meaning that it was currently sunset. A log path could be seen ahead of him, clearly man-made with rope and wood. "_That must be the way to the Seeker Camp._" Hanging his AK from his shoulder strap, he pressed on, now walking upon even path. It was only after an hour or two that Boryslav finally arrived.

The Seeker Camp was actually not a building, rather it was an inverted tree that had been hollowed-out. Gigantic telescopes could be seen amongst its leaves, and carved windows showed that there was light coming from the inside. A singular gondola could be seen hanging from the front, anchored above.

"_Finally made it._" Boryslav thought with relief before noticing the lack of presence, "_Huh, seems like there's barely anybody here, not even a lookout-_" The gondola suddenly activated, lowering itself down to the log path. Boryslav blinked, "_Wait, those crazy bastards are gonna carry me up there? Past the 10 meter mark and right into the anomaly?_" He had read that the anomaly apparently weakens the further away from the center it was. Perhaps the fact it was high up made it hard to attack, as any enemy would have to ascend in order to get at it. He then entered the gondola, awkwardly waiting before the machinery finally awoke, progressing upward. He subtly opened one of his lead packets hanging from his belt while looking up, exposing the Compass artifact.

It sprung to life, glowing as it opened a hole within the 'Curse' anomaly and let him through without any repercussion. Boryslav smiled behind his gas mask, closing the packet as he reached the top.

And then, upon turning is head, a figure stepped into the elevator, barely giving him a chance to react as a giant glove grabbed him by the scruff of his suit.

His eyes widened behind his gas mask, Boryslav lifted from the ground as if he were a child, AK-74 falling from his shoulder. He quickly reached into his side holster, lifting his M1911. Yet they seemed to anticipate this, using their free hand to slap the gun right out of his hand as if it were a toy, the weapon clattering on the metal floor of the gondola as his fingers stung.

"Motherfuck-" Boryslav managed to spit out before being carried out of the gondola and smashed against the wooden planks. Boryslav felt his rib cage rattle and back bruise, air being compressed straight from his lungs. He could barely see his attacker in his blurry vision, only able to discern the shadowy shape of a sadistic smile.

But he had the satisfaction to see that smile turn into a frown.

Boryslav had lifted his lower body off the ground, having quickly wrapped both his legs around the giant figure's neck before throwing all his weight to the right. For a brief moment, he was able to turn the figure to the side thanks to the positioning, gloved hand briefly relinquishing its grasp as the figure fell to the floor. He didn't dare attempt a full takedown, knowing that the figure in question had the strength of a Pseudogiant. He rolled away, quickly standing up and recovering himself. The figure stood up to full height as well, Boryslav getting a good look.

The first noticeable feature was the giant disc-like hat, and their intimidating presence. Their clothes were black, with a large cloak that rested atop their shoulders. The overall impression of the armor was bulky, yet smooth, gloved hands almost like cloth gauntlets. The boots were odd, almost hoof-shaped and something hanged from their neckline, yet Boryslav was unable to properly discern it.

Mainly because his assailant was already upon him again, stomping forward with both gloves balled into fists.

It would be too late to grab his machete and swing. So Boryslav relied on his other weapon.

Systema.

It was a Russian martial art, taught when he was still in the Spetznaz. A style that had no real form, but rather was a hybridization. Grappling, takedowns, and strikes. His body relaxed, stance calm as all the stiffness seemed to leave his joints. The figure then threw a gigantic right fist forward, directly aimed at his chest.

"_If this hits me... I'm dead._"

So instead of bothering to block it, which would have been impossible, Boryslav took steps to let it continue, drawing the back of his wrist over the fist to guide both the arm and his own body, with the former continuing forward, and the latter pivoting to beside the arm as wind rippled past him. He balled a fist, raising it on reaction much like a boxer before striking, throwing his entire body into the attack as he leaned forward. His fist landed its mark against the figure's cheek, horizontal vector perfectly in line with a vertical collision. His assailant's large hat was literally knocked right off their head, body stumbling forward in a diagonal pattern from his position and grabbing onto a handrail, crushing the metal in their grip after momentarily having to recover. Boryslav was surprised in all honesty, knowing that anyone else would have been knocked out for sure, or at least fallen to the floor from such a powerful hit.

The figure then finally stood up, turning.

Boryslav blinked.

It was a woman.

Her face seemed emotionless, and her skin was a dull white, like the snow underneath a sunset. An ugly bruise could be seen where Boryslav had struck on her cheek, yet she didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest. Her hair was an odd monochrome mixture of black and white, with two bangs on the sides of her head, almost as if they were horns. She stared down at him with her black lusterless eyes, and while others may have found her gaze to be disturbing, Boryslav found himself oddly... allured, as if her gaze inspired a feeling of familiarity.

The facade was then dropped.

Boryslav blinked, realizing that her expression had changed. Now, it was... well, quite hard to say at first glance, almost as if inky blackness had dripped over her features, a feeling of cold contempt washing over him.

Finally, she spoke, her voice deep yet soft.

"It has been a while since someone struck me so..." She then outstretched her hand as if in trance, grasping digits facing Boryslav. "**I truly despise you.**"

And to that...

Boryslav responded in kind.

"Oh? Very well then." His lens seemed to consume the lights around them, ready to draw his machete. "**Иди ко мне...**"

Two monsters had found each other, and only one would leave... had their standoff not been interrupted by a child's voice. "M-Master, wait! He's a licensed Delver!"

Boryslav blinked, the situation instantaneously defusing as the tension simply vanished. He noticed a young girl standing at the open wood doorway, her blue eyes wide and hands quivering as she wore the attire of what appeared to be a maid. The imposing woman peered to the side ever so slightly before peering back at Boryslav.

It was here he finally realized what hanged from her neck, a white whistle in the shape of a bovine with horns.

"_So then that must mean she's-!_"

Ozen 'The Immovable' spoke, "Hm. A shame then."

Boryslav finally came to his senses, gritting his teeth behind his gas mask. Legendary white whistle or not, he was enraged. "A shame!? What the fuck are you implying?!" He then grabbed the end of his blue whist with a tight fist, shaking it to show it off. "I have the blue whistle right here!? Does that not show I am a Delver?!"

"It was not unreasonable to assume that you could've easily have taken that from a corpse, many have tried before."

The Stalker gritted his teeth before pulling back his hood, wrenching his gas mask off, his worn features revitalized by sheer anger.

He then lifted both hands, now in a combat stance.

"Ну все, тебе пизда! Let us go again!"

* * *

Ozen wasn't sure if she was somehow suffering from the curse of the 3rd layer, or if what she was seeing was actually real. But one thing was for sure...

This man had caught her completely off guard.

She turned her head to Marulk, ignoring the furious blue whistle. "How do you know he's licensed?"

"W-Well, I heard a few Delvers talk about a strange foreigner in Orth who officially became a blue whistle recently." Marulk then motioned to the Delver. "He must be the one they were talking about."

"And you didn't tell me this before...?" Ozen asked.

"I-I'm sorry, Master! I just wasn't sure at first!" Marulk exclaimed.

She turned back to the blue whistle, the man goading her to fight. Ozen considered for a moment to continue fighting before the stinging bruise on her cheek gave her a gentle reminder. "_His fighting... is unlike anything I've ever fought before._" He should have been cowering before her, like every Delver that had arrived at the Seeker Camp... and yet... this meer blue whistle showed none of it. "_He doesn't fear me at all._"

That was almost like...

Like...

Ozen sighed, clutching her forehead lightly. "My... how bothersome." She then straightened her back, standing to full height as an echoing crack heard, the blue whistle blinking. "I'll be completely honest... I find apologies to be completely useless. Once something occurs, the words that come after hold no meaning." The foreign man raised an eye at that sentiment, "So how about a peace offering instead? A fight would inconvenience both of us."

"... A peace offering?" He asked, Ozen nodding.

"I could offer you artifacts, gold-"

"Do you have alcohol?"

Ozen blinked, "... Yes."

The man suddenly dropped the stance, anger literally fading in an instant as he smiled, his dull blue eyes lighting up. "Well, why did you not say just now?!" The man then walked past her, looking down at Marulk. "Thank you for the intervention, little girl."

Marulk stuttered, "U-Um, uh, actually I'm a boy."

* * *

**Kept you waiting, huh? It took a while, but I finally finished this chapter... now if you'll excuse me, I gotta start working on my other stories. No extras this time, I'll try and post one next chapter.**

Мудак - Mudak - Asshole

Ти́ше е́дешь — да́льше бу́дешь - Tishe yedesh — dal'she budesh - Slow and steady wins the race

Изумительный - Izumitel'nyy - Amazing

Иди ко мне - Idi ko mne - Come to me

Ну все, тебе пизда! - Nu vse, tebe pizda - That's it, you're fuck(in' dead)ed!


End file.
